Cameron's Hidden Secret
by pennmill
Summary: Re-posted upon request. Over a decade before even working for House, an event takes place for Cameron that explains the explosive connection that House can't seem to understand. Soon, the past catches up to them and Cameron's hidden secret is exposed!
1. Chapter 1

**Cameron's Hidden Secrets**

**Chapter 1**

**June 1992**

Allison Cameron had been looking forward to attending this conference all semester. The prospect of listening to the up and coming star diagnostician, Dr. Gregory House, was a chance she couldn't let pass by. It was her final year in high school and when news spread of the opportunity to enter an essay in a contest where the grand prize would include a $25,000 scholarship in pre-med, Allison jumped at the chance. The fact that Dr. House would be one of the key speakers meant little to her initially, but after some investigation it soon became clear that this man could lead her in the direction she had decided her life should go and his presence there was icing on the cake.

So, here she was, getting out of a cab this sunny Friday afternoon with luggage in hand, in Ocean City, Maryland. As she approached the hotel's desk, she already knew she was one of the five finalists in the competition. At this point, she would be receiving anywhere from $5,000 to $25,000 to help further her education. The fact that she also received an all-expense-paid vacation to the beach for three days didn't hurt either.

Allison reached for her room key and noticed how the clerk's eyes traveled over her, appraising her youthful eighteen-year-old charms in a manor that made her grit her teeth.

"Miss Cameron, as you know, this is our busy season and we are quite booked." The clerk still held tightly to her key.

"Is there a problem?" Allison asked timidly. That would be all she needed, to find they had over-booked the hotel and she would be stranded in an unfamiliar city with no place to stay.

"Well, not really a problem," he answered hesitantly. "But, depending on your preference, it may be an inconvenience. You see, when we received your registration, it was under the name Al Cameron, so we assumed you were a male."

"You didn't room me with a man, did you?" Panic was written across her face.

"No, no, not "with" you," he said slowly. "But it is the only room left and it's an adjoining room. Really, all you need to do is keep the door locked and it will be fine. But I am required to let you know this, considering the occupant of the next room is male."

Relief spread through Allison. "Oh, I see. No, that'll be no problem. I don't mind, as long as the door can remain locked."

"Very good." The man smiled at her and released the key, motioning for the boy across the room to come and carry her bag.

Allison followed the boy to the elevator and got off on the seventh floor, moving to the end of the hall as she waited for him to open the door then carry her bag inside. Once alone, Allison sat on the end of the bed. She had never been on her own like this before. She had nothing scheduled until the following day, so the rest of her day and evening were free. As she moved to her window, she gazed out at the beach and took in the inviting scene before her. Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt to get some sun and sea breeze. So, with a tan in mind, she dressed in her orange and brown-striped bikini with an oversized t-shirt over top of it, threw on a pair of beaded sandals then grabbed her sunglasses on her way out the door.

Dr. Gregory House was nursing a hangover most of his first morning in Maryland. He had arrived Thursday evening, flying down from Boston where he was on the staff of Boston General as a rising diagnostician. He wasn't really too keen on giving lectures to a bunch of teenagers, but the extra cash didn't hurt. He knew he wouldn't be required to do anything too strenuous throughout Friday, and Saturday all he needed to do was give a short speech at a luncheon and then later that evening he only had to show his face at a formal dinner. After that he was hopping a the next flight out of Maryland and back to Boston. Not that he had anyone actually waiting for him back there. At thirty-three years of age, he wasn't in the market for anyone special. He preferred being alone. this way he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted and see whom he wanted. So, last night he went to the Blue Sails Boardwalk Tavern and drank himself to the point of nearly seeing mermaids swimming out along the beachfront.

As Friday morning stretched into afternoon, House threw on a pair of cut-off jeans and a blue tropical shirt that he left open, then headed down to the beach to bask in the sun and try to soothe his still aching head. He rented a beach chair and toted it a few dozen yards closer to the surf, plopping down in it and letting the wind ruffle his already messed hair as he hid behind dark glasses and slumped down in his seat, quite prepared to let the sound of the surf lull him to sleep.

House smelled her first; the coconut aroma wasn't unusual as he sat in the middle of dozens of sunbathers, but the light floral scent opened his eyes to see the orange and brown striped bikini-clad form spreading a beach towel out only ten feet in front of him. 'Not bad,' he thought as he watched her bending to open the towel completely, his view of a nicely rounded but taut bottom perking his interest. As she distributed her lotion, t-shirt and bottle of water, House continued to watch her, seeing her kick off her sandals, then move onto the towel, lying back and giving him a clear view of her cleavage as she wriggled herself into a comfortable position and went about basking in the sun. If his head hadn't been throbbing so much, he might have approached her, but as it was, he merely stayed sitting, enjoying the view she provided.

Allison could feel someone watching her. She had only been lying on the beach for about a half hour when the feeling was undeniable. She turned over onto her stomach and looked in both directions, then looked straight ahead of herself, spotting first the deck shoes and strong, hairy calves, then noticing the cut-off jeans and blue shirt with palm trees spread across it. She could feel her face getting warmer as she let her eyes move up to see the beard-stubbled face that was watching her. Even through the dark glasses, she knew he was watching as his lips turned up in a small smile.

"Hey," House acknowledged her, taking in the loveliness of the girl's face. "Come here often?"

"What?" Allison squinted at him and cocked her head slightly.

"Are you here for the summer? Or is this only a short trip?" House continued.

"I'm here to continue my education," she answered, not sure why she was actually having a conversation with him, other than he was just about the handsomest man she had ever seen. Oh, not in the model-movie star way that so many girls her age swooned over--but in a rugged, very masculine way.

"Uh-huh." House lifted his bottle to his mouth, the foam-gripper-cover hiding the fact that it was indeed a beer bottle. He knew this area was an easy spot for "ladies to continue their education." He looked at her more closely, judging her to be rather new at her profession, and deciding that she could provide him with adequate company at some point before he left town. "Are you going to be staying in this spot?" He asked but when she looked at him in confusion, he went on. "This block--is it your area?"

Allison nodded her head yes and pointed toward the hotel up on the boardwalk. "I'm staying up there. At least until I get the money I came here for." She moved to sit up and look at him, noticing for the first time who he was. Recognition spread an authentic smile across her features.

The smile she flashed at him nearly blinded him with its beauty. At that point he knew he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass. "Maybe I can help you get to your goal."

"Oh, thank you! I'd love as much help as I can get!" She scooted up onto her knees as she sat on her feet in her eagerness. The thought of Dr. Gregory House helping her to win her scholarship made her very enthusiastic.

"Are you working on your "educational fund" today?" House took another sip of his beer as he watched her. Her enthusiasm for his contribution to her "fund" didn't bother him in the least. This wasn't the first time he had paid for a hooker; it wasn't going to be the last.

"No, actually, you could say today is my day off." She smiled again. "Tomorrow is when all the work starts."

"Then I guess I'll see you then."

"It's a date." Allison giggled, then felt the beginnings of a sunburn and started gathering her things. "But for now, I better head inside. Can't concentrate on my job tomorrow with a sunburned back."

"No, I don't suppose that would be very comfortable. Might take your mind off of your work." With that, he watched as she made her way back toward the boardwalk, knowing that come the next evening--he would be making some very fine memories of Ocean City.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Allison's sunburn kept her inside most of her first day there, only going outside for a quick trip up the boardwalk to purchase some Solarcaine and aloe to help her make it through the night and the next day's events. She should have known better, with her creamy complexion she always did burn quickly during her first outing of the summer. She should be better by tomorrow's luncheon. But, even though she had to suffer through the pain of a minor sunburn, she was glad she had the opportunity to meet Dr. House. She didn't know how he was going to help her, but was happy that he offered to do so. She didn't even care if it was just a few words of wisdom. She couldn't imagine that he would actually sway the judgement of the contest, not at this late date, but his guidance would be greatly appreciated. He was a speaker at tomorrow's luncheon and then was supposed to be attending the dinner.

Sleep didn't come easily to Allison on her first night at the hotel. Besides the sting of her sunburn, the commotion from the other side of the adjoining door to the next suite would wake her throughout the night. At first it was merely loud bangs, such as doors swinging open and hitting walls, then it was more clatter of what sounded to be someone stumbling around the room, and curses as that said person evidently would run into objects of furniture. Finally after what sounded to be a drunken rendition of Def Leppard's 'Pour Some sugar On it,' there was only silence, indicating that the person next door had evidently fallen asleep. Thus, when morning finally did come to Allison, she accidentally overslept until it was nearly time for the luncheon.

Allison hastily jumped into the shower, pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail that cascaded long chocolate brown curls down her back, then proceeded to put on a black curve-fitting skirt and a gray, short-sleeved blouse. Her black heels helped to increase her five-foot-five inch frame to about five-eight. A quick look in the mirror and with some satisfaction she grabbed her notes and headed for the auditorium for the announcement of the scholarship winners and Dr. House's speech. But, as luck would have it, she was just sneaking through the doorway of the large, darkened room in time to see Dr. House just leaving the podium.

"Dammit," she whispered to herself as she gave her ticket to the attendant before being seated. "Well," she thought, "maybe I'll see him this afternoon, before the dinner." And with that thought in mind, she took her seat in the middle of four young men of her age; the other participants of the contest. The boy next to her wore glasses and had tobacco-brown hair. She couldn't see adequately, but she suspected his face was covered in matching freckles.

"Hi," he whispered as he pulled his briefcase closer to himself with one hand and extended his other to her. "My name's Herman-Herman Wolf. Are you the last participant in the scholarship contest?"

"Yes. I'm Allison Cameron. Did I miss much? I see that Dr. House left already."

"He left--but you didn't miss much. He didn't speak very long--only about five or ten minutes. I think the officials were a bit disappointed." Herman spoke quietly, sitting more erect as the "officials" he was speaking of moved to the podium. "It looks like you timed it just right! They're about to announce the scholarships."

A middle-aged gentleman stood behind the microphone, and after fifteen minutes of verifying the potential of each of the candidates, he called them one-by-one so they could introduce themselves and read their essays to the forum. After the fifth participant completed his short speech and returned to his seat, a nervous Allison squirmed in her chair. Herman, though, seemed very confident as he reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Don't worry, you did fine," he spoke softly to her. "I have no doubts that you're going to walk away with the grand prize."

She looked over at him and smiled gently. "Your presentation was better than mine."

"Tell ya what, if I win the grand prize, will you be my date to the dinner tonight?"

"Only if you'll be mine, if I win."

"That's a deal!"

Together they held hands tightly. In Herman, Allison found a friend for her stay at the beach. She knew it wouldn't be a longstanding friendship, but he was kind and gentle, and she had no doubt that he would some day be something special in the medical field. By the end of the ceremony, Allison walked away with the $25,000 scholarship, while Herman happily accepted first place with a scholarship worth $20,000.

Greg House spent Friday night at the beach, looking for the beauty he had seen in the tiger-striped bikini earlier that day. He recalled that she said she wouldn't be working the rest of the day, but was hoping he could convince her otherwise if he happened to run into her on the boardwalk. On his venture down the walk, he managed to stop in at least two jazz cafes and ended the night listening to a band blasting rock tunes. He couldn't remember making his way back to his hotel room, or actually getting to bed, but the following morning when he was to prepare for his speech at the luncheon, he slept in late. A wake-up call alerted him that he had better get to the auditorium or miss his speech altogether. So, once again, with a pounding head and stomach that was ready to lurch, he stood before a room full of shadows and gave them the mini-version of his speech, then abruptly left and headed back to his room where he immediately heaved his stomach into his toilet. After that, he went back to bed to try to soothe his splitting head and stomach that still rumbled.

By five o'clock that evening he was once again getting dressed, this time in his tuxedo, and then headed down to the conference room where he sat at the head of the table, smoked a cigar and watched the people entering without interest until he saw his beach-bikini beauty enter on the arm of what he could only regard as a farm-boy. There was no denying it was her. That face and figure could not be disguised. Her hair was pulled up in a loose knot near the top of her head with straying strands framing her face. Her makeup was showcasing all her assets, a perfect nose, lips that were inviting him to look a little more closely. Her gown hugged her curves, its turquoise satin nearly matching the color of her eyes.

If he had any doubts about her occupation, they were fading rapidly, knowing there was no way she would hook up with such a character as this without being paid. The evening progressed slowly for House as he would glance out at the lovely girl that watched him closely. She smiled frequently at him with open invitation as she sat next to her teenage "companion." During dinner, he watched as she laughed with her "date," but her eyes would return to him, filled with encouragement.

House only stayed through dinner, then abruptly made his excuses and left. He walked down the boardwalk in his tux, stopping in for a few drinks, then headed back to his room. He had an early flight in the morning and he didn't want to get smashed again and miss it. As he got off the elevator on the seventh floor, he noticed his bikini-beauty entering the room next to his, already reaching for her zipper to remove her gown just as she turned to close the door. She stopped momentarily upon sight of him putting the key in his own door; recognition taking place as she then pushed the door closed completely. The thought that the farm-boy was inside waiting for her irritated him for some reason. He suspected it was only the thought that he had planned on having her himself this night. So, upon entering his own room, he went about trying to empty the bar of its scotch.

Following the luncheon that day, Allison's day had been very nice. She hung out with Herman and that was fun, especially when he took her to play volleyball with him on the beach. She learned quite quickly that she had nothing to fear from Herman as he went about telling her all about his "little lady" he had back home. All in all, he was quite the gentleman throughout dinner, even noticing her apparent "crush" on the doctor at the head table and gently teasing her about it. But, as they had agreed, their date ended on the elevator when she got off on the seventh floor and he went on to the ninth.

Allison was surprised to see Dr. House entering the room next to hers. Upon sight of him, she suddenly felt nervous, smiling at him like the schoolgirl that she was trying so hard not to be. She closed her door, feeling that he wouldn't be interested in a conversation with her at this time of night, but wished she had had the courage to approach him and talk about his speech and the dinner they had attended. And then, from discussing those things, wouldn't it have been wonderful to have had a general discussion--and then who knows? She giggled as she changed into her football jersey that she used as her nightshirt. She turned on the television and went about quietly watching Saturday Night Live until her lids began to droop and she fell into a light dose. She didn't know how long she had been out when a thunderous bang resounded from the room next door, a bang so loud and hard that she could almost feel the wall vibrate with it. The curses that followed the bang had her on her feet instantly, now knowing whom the occupant was in the next room, but then there was silence. She slowly moved toward the adjoining door, listening for some sound of movement so she would know that he was okay.

"Dr. House?" Allison called softly at first, then a little louder. Her heart started beating rapidly at the thought of actually confronting the doctor in the next room." Dr. House, are you alright?"

This time she heard him moan, as if in pain, and her pre-doctor instincts surged into place as she reached down and unlocked her side of the door. It opened quite easily after that, indicating that he had unlocked his side of the door some time during his stay. When she pushed open the door she was met with darkness, the only light being the light from her television on her side of the wall.

"Dr. House? Dr. House? Where are you?" Her pulses were still racing.

"I'm over here. Turn on the light," he answered groggily.

She reached for the lamp she knew she would find on the bureau, then closed the door as the dim light helped her find the man still in his tuxedo who had evidently fallen from the overturned bar stool. She went to him immediately, making a quick analysis of his position and not noting any obvious broken bones. House finally looked up at her face, a smirk covering his own expression as he looked at her.

"Well, well." His hand moved up to her hair as he talked with a bit of a slur. "If it isn't my little tiger-bikini. Tell me something green eyes, what happened to your last escort? Are you finished with him?"

"Finished with him?" Allison asked in confusion. She supposed she was "finished" with him. Their date had ended earlier that evening. Now her breathing was coming a bit harder as she felt his fingers stroking through her long dark waves. "Yes. Yes. He's back at his room."

"How lucky for me." With that, he pulled her down to him and met her lips with his own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

'Dr. House!" Allison's light resistance didn't seem to slow him. It was only when she called his name that he ended the kiss and looked at her. "Can I help you get up? Would you like to move to your bed? You can't stay here on the floor all night."

"Sounds like a plan." He took her hand and moved until he was standing before her, but he didn't wait to make it to the bed before he was drawling her into his arms again. "Don't worry, beautiful. I'll take care of you tonight."

Allison looked up at him. "I think "you" are the one who needs taken care of tonight, Dr. House. Let's just get you to the bed and you'll be fine."

He smiled slightly as he looked down at her. In her bare feet, she must be eight or nine inches shorter than him, but the way she was looking at him, she was the perfect fit. He moved with her guidance until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, but when she would have backed away, he held onto her wrist. "No," he whispered. "Don't leave me tonight. You said you'd take care of me, gorgeous."

Allison looked down into his magnificent blue eyes and was being drawn within them. She had never seen a man look at her with such yearning before and she was becoming overwhelmed. What would it hurt? She was a big girl, right? Eighteen, going on nineteen. The boys at her high school already thought it a bit odd because she was still a virgin. She couldn't help it if she wasn't interested in any of those boys. They seemed so juvenile to her.

But, this man who was looking at her now; he had captured her interest even before she arrived at the beach. Articles she had read about him had earned her admiration professionally. Yesterday on the beach he had captured her imagination. Tonight, as he looked at her with such want in his eyes, she knew there was nothing juvenile about him. Just looking into his eyes, she could feel her body waking up, making her feel things she had never felt before.

Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, she was being pulled down on top of him as his hands moved to her face, bringing her mouth to his. His tongue moved across her lips, between them, being met with closed teeth. Upon her small gasp at such intimacy, he gained entry and started a dance with her tongue, bringing her sensations to a heady flame. As he continued kissing her, his hands moved down over her back and onto her firm bottom, first massaging and then pulling her harder against him as his arousal grew quite evident between them, turning her heady flame to a raging fire as he rolled on top of her and spread her legs around him.

His kisses moved down her jaw, nuzzling her neck, then moving down her throat until her nightshirt got in his way. His irritation at the interruption showed as he moved off the bed and quickly discarded his jacket, removing his vest and tie, then his shirt. He kicked off his shoes and looked down at her as she lay with her hair spread out around her head. She seemed ethereal as her green eyes looked back at him. If he didn't know better, he would say she was the vision of innocence lying there. But, knowing her profession, he was glad that she wasn't, otherwise he wouldn't be here with her. Fresh-faced teens were not his taste. . .but. . .there was just something about her, something he found irresistible.

He reached for her shirt and then quickly pulled her panties down over her legs. Man, the sight of her lying there with her fresh tan was sending him to the point of near bursting. He reached for his own pants, not even taking the time to remove them completely as he went back to the bed, sliding between her legs as his mouth found her throat where he had left off earlier. She had such young, firm breasts, inviting his kiss to them as he moved lower and savored their taste. He could feel her hands, so delicate, almost timid in their caresses as they moved through his hair and over his back. He knew he couldn't wait much longer now and with one swift movement he positioned himself and pressed inside of her.

His first reaction was shock as he heard her cry of pain as he thrust through the thin obstruction. He pulled back and looked at her as she looked back wide-eyed. Then slowly, her smile returned and she reached for him, pulling him down until her mouth met his in a dance that had his mind reeling. He didn't know what was happening. The effects of too much scotch and the unimaginable need that was surging through him had his thoughts in a jumble.

"Are you. . .are you?" He managed to get those words out, wanting to know if she was a virgin, but his intense need made his words difficult at best as he continued to move within her.

Allison looked at his beautiful blue eyes that were watching her intensely and suddenly felt a closeness with him that she had never experienced before. She could only imagine that he was asking if she was hurt. She smiled gently at him again, and shook her head no.

"Good enough for me, beautiful," he responded and got caught up in their passion once again, the guilt that had momentarily side-tracked him disappeared. Positive again that she was indeed a professional, he got lost in his sensations as they sent him on a spiraling explosion the likes of which he had never experienced before. God, he'd have to see that she was paid well before he left.

Allison awoke the next morning to a soreness she could not readily identify. Glancing around, she almost thought she was still in her own room, but then memories of the previous night flooded through her. She was no longer a virgin! And, the infamous Dr. Gregory House had taken that label away from her. She couldn't wait to see him, to talk to him. As she glanced around, she saw that he was not in the room and decided he must be in the bathroom, or stepped out for breakfast. She lifted the sheet and found her panties and nightshirt and put them on. It was only then that she noticed there were no signs of any luggage or clothing left in the room from Dr. House. She could feel her heart beginning to sink; but when she saw the paper on the bureau top with $500 tucked beneath it, her heart seemed to stop altogether.  
Green eyes,  
Thanks for the 'help' last night. You were worth every penny. I hope this helps in your educational endeavors.  
H.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**June 2004**

Dr. Allison Cameron's heels clicked on the tile flooring as she made her way down the hall toward the Diagnostics Department. She was the picture of composure in her brown skirt with matching jacket and beige blouse. Only she could begin to guess that she was a bundle of nerves inside. She had waited twelve years for this opportunity. She wasn't going to cower away now. Not like she did twelve years ago. She was about to interview for the position of immunologist/diagnostician under the renowned Dr. Gregory House.

Allison had been following Dr. House's career since that horrible morning when she woke up to find his "donation" as well as his "accusation" that she was a common hooker. Well, she didn't take his money then--just as she hadn't sought him out for any other "assistance" over the years. She watched him from a distance, noting his advancing career, just as she advanced in her own. She had debated with herself when a position opened in Dr. House's department at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Did she really want to risk the chance that he would remember her from that disastrous night twelve years before? But, could she pass up the chance to take this position and make a living that would provide for herself as well as her family back home? Could she pass up the chance to work with him, to be near him again?

Allison paused as she approached the office with Dr. House's name on the glass door. She gave a slight shake of her head, as if to clear it. She needed to leave that girl with a teenage infatuation behind. She needed to become the woman she had grown into, the woman she had worked to become.

"Dr. Cameron?" The voice came from behind her, startling her a bit, but as she turned and looked at the brown-haired, brown-eyed man in a lab coat, she calmed immediately. He had such a friendly face she couldn't help but be soothed by his appearance and demeanor. And handsome, she was sure he turned many women's heads!

"Yes." Allison extended her hand to the man and he took it in both of his, shaking it with warmth as she smiled at him. "I'm here to interview for the position with Dr. House."

"I'm Dr. James Wilson. Dr. House asked me to sit in with him for the interview." Upon her raised brow, he smiled sheepishly at her. "Don't worry. He'd rather I take care of it for him completely, but I insisted he take part. Please, come with me. And remember--he really doesn't bite."

Allison had to hold back a chuckle on that thought. If she remembered correctly, he "did" bite and the memory wasn't completely disagreeable. "Stop that," she scolded herself. "There will be no more of that! You are here for the job--only the job!" She followed Dr. Wilson through the glass door and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimness. Then she saw him sitting--no make that "lounging" behind his desk with one of his Nike-clad feet propped up on his desk. He wore a pair of jeans with a blue shirt that had the top four buttons undone. She could see his black t-shirt beneath. All-in-all he seemed to have changed dramatically. His body wasn't as slim as it had once been. He had filled out--and quite remarkably well. His hair was now peppered with gray, as was his stubble that covered his cheeks, and there were lines in a face that she remembered as flawless many years before. Still, the lines didn't detract from his looks, if anything, he was aging beautifully! "Dammit! He would," she thought to herself. "Why couldn't he have gained about fifty or sixty pounds and gone bald?"

Dr. Gregory House was about as interested in the hiring of this new immunologist as he was working forty hours of clinic duty. He dreaded it! That was one reason he talked his friend into helping him with the applicants. So far, they had been through three men and four women, and he found each one more nondescript than the first. He was actually ready to grab his cane and head home and let Wilson do the last interview by himself; that was until that last interview entered his line of vision. He watched her outside his office as she smiled at Wilson, taking his hand in a handshake that could only be described as a little too affectionate on Wilson's part. There was definitely something about this woman that stirred his interest. Yes, she was a beauty alright, but then the other women weren't exactly old hags! Maybe a little too pretty to be needing to work at a job like this. There was just something about this one; something he couldn't put his finger on; and he knew even before she entered the room that she had the job. The fact that he knew exactly what her voice would sound like, even before she opened her mouth, sent an eerie jolt down his spine. Here was a puzzle--and he loved solving puzzles.

"Allison, this is Dr. Gregory House." Wilson held the back of a chair for her, indicating that she should disregard the formality of a handshake with House and be seated, then he watched appreciatively as she did so and crossed her long, lovely legs. "House, this is. . ."

"Cameron. Yeah, I know. I have her resume right here." He stared at her for a moment. "Have we met before?"

Cameron's heart seemed to skip a beat as she looked back at him. Then, sitting a little more erect, she looked him directly in the eye. "I attended one of your lectures many years ago. Perhaps you remember seeing me in the audience."

"Hmm. Maybe." He brought his foot down from his desk where he had been resting it and started stacking the folders with resumes inside. This brought a heavy sigh from Wilson as he was sure his friend was turning this beautiful applicant away even before giving her a chance. House's next remark, though, nearly knocked the wind out of his friend. "You can start on Monday. Be here by eight. I won't be here until nine-thirty or ten. Do you know how to make coffee?"

"Yes." Cameron's face started to turn pink with indignation. She most certainly was not coming to work here as a glorified waitress! "But, Dr. House. . ."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You didn't go through twelve years of medical training just to make coffee. You'll be doing a lot more than that. Truth is--I can't make a good pot of coffee to save my life and my other two imbecilic specialists can't make it either. So, to save everyone a lot of unnecessary debate--you can do it--we can't--so it's your morning assignment." He grabbed onto a cane that Cameron had not been aware of until that moment. "Agreed?"

"Um, yes." She looked at him stupidly. She had been prepared to come in here and dazzle him with her accomplishments and intelligence. But it was all over with nary a word from her. "Yes. I'll be here Monday morning."

"Great." House stood up and limped out the door, leaning heavily on the cane. "Wilson. Finish up, will ya? I'm heading home."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

May 2007

Allison Cameron often remembered the day she was hired and how Wilson had managed to talk her into taking the position after such an awkward beginning with her new boss. She still believed that if it had not been for Wilson's help and guidance, she would never have survived those first months. But with time, she found herself being swept up not only in her position at PPTH and the work that she had come to love, but she found herself getting caught up in Gregory House's charisma and charm as well. She often wished she could just be one of his employees; the hard, abrasive side of him was the only characteristics that so many others in the hospital could see. But she wasn't. She knew within the first months of her employment that she was losing her battle to remain resilient to his charms. He was her mentor, her teacher, and with each passing day, she yearned for him to be her lover again.

The past three years she had passed her time at work, guarding her private life from all whom she worked with. Her home life was her own business. Granted, she allowed Chase into her apartment on those occasions when she used the young doctor almost as an ointment to soothe her sore soul after rejections from House. But what she needed to protect was back home in Illinois with her parents. When she was alone at her apartment she would always call her parents and keep in close touch with them. On vacations and long holidays she was either on a plane, or if she felt like it, in her car on a long drive back to her home state.

It was during this third year of working with House that Cameron sat in the conference room, somewhat in a calm state. She had been through so much with him since she'd been here. The fact that he relied heavily on a cane was her first shock, but she got past that almost immediately. She had known him before his surgery, when there was no limp; not much had changed in his demeanor--his ego was still as huge as ever, if not larger! She had tried on several occasions to break through to House during her first year here, but each time she was met with a closed door. Still, there were times when she would catch him looking at her, as if his memory was trying to shine through the drunken haze he had been in so long ago, and actually remember their first encounter. And there were times when he would look at her with such desire in his gorgeous blue eyes that she felt she would melt if he didn't take her in his arms. But, he never did. He always protected himself and withdrew behind those blue, blue eyes.

When she found out that he had been in a serious relationship with Stacy Warner, it initially perked her interest, but when the woman actually came back to taunt and tease House, Cameron was crushed. She was so hurt by his preference of the older woman that she almost gave up and returned back to Illinois. Cameron often wondered how he could be so blind, that he couldn't see what Stacy was up to, returning with a sick husband in tow as she did. It was almost as if she were there to have House as a spare just in case her husband didn't make it. Or maybe she just wanted them both. Cameron knew that she had a brief fling with House, and certainly at that time she did have both her husband and Greg. Whatever made House decide to send Stacy on her way, Cameron didn't know, but was grateful for it.

Last year, when House was shot, Cameron felt as if she were dying, herself, upon sight of that bullet ripping through his body. She could remember Chase and Foreman holding her back as the gunman aimed and shot that second bullet into House's neck. Then when the gunman ran off, Foreman and Chase couldn't hold her any longer. She made her way to House before the other two, tending to his wounds as she felt as if her own heart was about to break into a million pieces at the thought of losing him. She stayed by his side throughout his recovery, holding his hand, stroking his face, speaking gentle words of love and encouragement to him until he finally came out of his unconscious state. Then he went home and she didn't see him for months before he returned to work with no pain and no cane, and then out of nowhere he asked her to go out with him; for dinner and a drink. How could she take him seriously at that point? And if he had been serious and really wanted to spend time with her, all he needed to do was ask again. But he never did.

Oh, she had been through more than her share of heartbreak with this man. This year was no exception as she watched him flirting with that patient's daughter who believed she was "in love" with him. Cameron was so furious with him at that time, she nearly exposed her little secret to him, seeing as how he must have had a thing for high school seniors! The girl looked to be a few months younger than Cameron had been when she had first met him.

Cameron watched as his pain returned and he once again became Vicodin-dependent. She watched as he became entangled with the law when Tritter began his investigations, taking each and every one of his friends down with him into his circle of hell. And then when she thought he was dying of cancer. How ironic, that the first man she had loved was going to die of the same disease that her husband had died from. She didn't know if she could survive it a second time, so in trying to find a treatment for House, she initiated a kiss. A kiss that rocked her world and sent her senses reeling! She felt his tongue sliding into her mouth, then she felt him taking control of the kiss, drawling her lower lip into his mouth as he gently sucked on it. She nearly forgot her reason for coming into the office, but then the thought of losing this man brought her back to her senses and she reached for the needle in her pocket. Everything went wrong after that. She only wanted to help him survive! But he immediately turned it around on her. She was shocked to find that he didn't really have cancer, her disappointment showing plainly as she stared at him in his apartment the night she, Foreman and Chase went to talk to him. And she saw his disappointment in her as he looked at her. His disappointment at her not believing in him--or at least believing the worst in him. She realized later his reasons for wanting the treatment at Boston. Not so much to get the perfect high--as to get the perfect pain relief.

Now these past few weeks, she watched as he snapped at everything she had to say. He seemed so angry at her for having her little fling with Chase. But what else was she to do? He flaunted his fling with Stacy. He made no secrets about his "midnight visitors." But when she made the biggest mistake of her life by entering into a loveless relationship with a coworker, it seemed to infuriate House. Cameron could have actually felt good about that--if he wasn't chasing after Cuddy all of a sudden as if she were the last woman on earth. Cuddy, whom she had considered a friend, seemed to be glowing in the attention she was getting from House lately. Her betrayal to Cameron was almost as unbearable as House's. But still, she continued to go to work each day, be as productive as she could be, and try not to let her heart break a little more with each horrible slur House would throw her way, and each open invitation to Cuddy.

"CAMERON!! You going to wake up today, or sit there and dream about janitor's closets and sleep labs?" House blasted at her as he stood in the doorway separating his office from the conference area.

"I wasn't daydreaming about anything," she hissed through her teeth.

"Oh really? So that far-away look in your eyes wasn't in awe of the wombat's charisma over there? Maybe you're moving onto bigger and better things? Foreman, don't go into any dark places--they're not safe anymore."

"House!" Cameron had had enough. His insinuations that she was freely handing out sexual favors was not only insulting, but it was humiliating her and now his latest comments were bringing unnecessary tension between herself and Foreman.

House moved over to fill his red mug with more coffee, his eyes not leaving Cameron's green orbs as he wore a smile of satisfaction. Cameron kept her eyes fixed on his as he drank from his cup. If he was prepared to do battle today, she was up for the challenge. She was getting very tired of his insults. But when House's eyes moved past her, out into the hallway, and he squinted his eyes in curiosity, she couldn't help but turn around and look at the area he was staring at so. The tall, lanky boy stood, looking back at them all. Confusion was written plainly on his face until he saw Cameron, then he broke into a smile. His dark brown hair showed off his blue eyes to perfection and his fifteen-year-old body was tall and thin, but you could see the potential of what he would grow into.

All of a sudden Cameron felt a tremendous pressure in her head as she looked at him. He should be back in Illinois, not here.

"Tony?" Cameron said weakly as she got to her feet before his image began to blur before her. The last thing she heard, before everything went fuzzy and she landed in a very focused House's arms, was the boy's response as he ran into the room.

"Mom?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

House watched Cameron and the youngster as they conversed in his office. He had taken her to his sofa to recover from her little "fainting" episode and once he saw that she was alright, left the boy and her to their privacy. Although he couldn't hear what they were discussing, he knew the room was tension-filled as the boy sat on the sofa and Cameron paced back and forth in front of him, wringing her hands in anxiety. House couldn't believe what he had heard coming from the boy's mouth. There was no doubt about it, he had called her "Mom." But House had been over Cameron's records–repeatedly–trying to unravel the puzzle that had landed in his lap over three years ago.

He remembered the day she and Wilson came into his office for her interview. He was in no mood to ask another loser fresh out of internship a lot of questions, but as soon as he looked up into those green eyes of hers, something clicked and he knew he wasn't going to go any farther in the interview process. It was those "green eyes" that intrigued him. He knew he had seen those eyes before, but for the life of him, he couldn't place them. He could almost imagine them dilating with passion as they looked back at him–but that was impossible. He would have remembered being with someone like Allison Cameron. He knew there was no possible way he could have met her before–at least from the time she entered college and got married. He went through every shred of information he could find on her from that time on. There was no way Cameron had ever crossed paths with him during that time. And not only had he and Cameron not crossed paths in that time, she certainly had not had any children.

If he hadn't met her before, then he had to mark it down as an incredible attraction that had jolted him into hiring her that first day. That was completely out of character for him. He may not like going through the interviewing process; hated meeting new people such as that; but he never made quick calls such as he had with Cameron. He watched her over the years, studied her actually, and in doing so, couldn't escape the attraction that had grabbed onto him from the first day he saw her. He didn't like this infatuation he felt for her; actually he hated someone having that kind of power over him, and if it was the last thing he ever did, he would keep her from knowing it!

He thought it was a Heaven-send when Stacy came back just as he was in danger of losing his heart to Cameron completely. With his ex-girlfriend back, he could focus his attention on her, after all, she was very safe. With her husband in tow, she wouldn't be a threat to himself, knowing a fling was the most that could happen–but then she wanted to leave her husband and come back into his life. He had considered it, until the day they actually went to bed in that hotel and he could only think of Cameron lying beneath him, feeling Cameron's face as he kissed Stacy, kissing Cameron's lips only to open his eyes and see Stacy staring back at him. That was when he knew he couldn't go on with Stacy. He'd be better off sending her back to Mark.

The last two years he spent trying to avoid the attraction that was nearly explosive between them, and for the most part, he had done a good job. But, they always had their moments, when those green eyes of hers would capture his and pull him into her very soul. But, he wouldn't let that happen! She could crush him so easily if she really wanted to. Just as he could crush her without wanting to.

When she came into his office a few months ago and kissed him, the touch of her lips on his pushed him quickly past anything simple. He immediately turned into a throbbing erection as his tongue took command of their kiss. All thoughts of self-preservation took a back burner as he very nearly knocked everything off his desk and took her right there. But when he felt her hand move to her pocket, and saw the needle in her hand; all thoughts of abandoning his long-felt preservation vanished. She was using him to get a stupid blood sample. He reacted quickly, sometimes regretting the fact that he could have easily taken the needle from her and finished what she had begun. But he didn't. Self-preservation returned quickly and with full force. But after realizing she was doing what she thought was best for him–he eventually got past the disappointment in her. It was later, when she rushed into his apartment to tell him that he "didn't" have cancer, that he saw the disappointment in her eyes when he told his three ducklings that he had switched records with a patient. That was when he, also, was disappointed in her. She should have known better, that it wasn't a better "high" he was after–simply a better "pain relief."

His ultimate betrayal came when he first suspected that she was carrying on with Chase again. And then, intentionally walking in on them in the janitor's closet like that. He was glad he caught them, stopped them before they actually got started–that time. He even felt if he went to Cuddy with the news, she would fire the little wombat and get rid of that thorn in his side. But she didn't, and as far as he knew, they were still carrying on their little game of buddies with benefits.

He wondered how Chase was going to take to the knowledge that Cameron was the mother of an adolescent son. Actually, he sort of hoped it would push Aussie-boy away from her. And from the look of near revulsion that spread across the blonde kangaroo's face when he heard the kid call Cameron "mom," House suspected that this new development wasn't exactly Chase's cup of tea. He had to chuckle in spite of himself as he took another drink from his coffee.

"Foreman, go run those labs," House ordered as he kept his eyes on the woman in the room next to where he was standing.

"We already ran the labs." Foreman answered.

"Then go down and help them get the results."

"Okay," Foreman sighed, knowing he was only ordering him out of the department so he could be alone with Cameron. "I'm off to the lab then."

House could have walked over and grabbed the wombat by the scruff of his neck and shoved him out the door. The looks the Aussie was sending in at Cameron and the kid was really getting on House's nerves.

"Chase–go cover clinic duty."

"But. . .but–he called her mom. She doesn't have any kids!" Chase said stupidly as he turned and looked at House.

"What's the matter, the fact that you weren't her first, tarnishing her image for you?" House asked snidely. "Go–clinic–now!"

House watched as Chase practically fell over himself as he made a hasty exit. He was glad he was gone. Now he could get to the bottom of this. He put his coffee on the conference table and head through the door that lead into his office.

"Okay," he interrupted as Cameron's eyes flashed his way and he could have sworn fear spread across her face. "Now, what's the story–Mom?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"What are you talking about House?" Cameron looked up at him as he moved to his desk and sat down, propping his bad leg up on its edge.

"I'm talking about your puppy here. Did he or did he not call you "mom" when you decided to gracefully fall into my arms over there?"

"Tony, wait for me over in the conference room." Cameron instructed the boy, but he merely sat there, looking nervously at her, and then turned harsh eyes on House. "Tony, go."

"Nope. Tony, you stay right here for a while." House interjected, making the boy's blue eyes brighten with anger.

"And what? I'm supposed to stay here just because you say so?" Tony said snidely. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Well, one person I know I'm not–is your father! I wouldn't produce a kid with such attitude!" House said just as snidely, then after a moment's thought smiled slightly. "Well, I guess I would, if I had ever been irresponsible enough to actually make one--thank God, I wasn't! But to answer your question–this is "my" office you're hiding out in–so that gives me some right to say, stay put."

"House, let him go over to the conference room. He doesn't need to hear you ridiculing me for what you think are my indiscretions." Cameron said almost pleadingly.

House eyed her closely. He knew he could cut her down with his comments, but he couldn't understand why she would think he would insult her in front of her son. The movement of the boy getting to his feet, turned House's gaze to him. He certainly was a tall kid, already taller than Cameron, but he could tell by the softness of his facial features and the lack of much facial hair, that he was still relatively young. Maybe fourteen or fifteen. The boy flashed another hard look at House then headed for the adjoining door.

"I'll wait over here," the boy grumbled.

"Now," said Cameron a bit tentatively. "What do you want to know?"

"A little loose in your teen years?"

"What?!" Cameron gasped.

"I don't believe you're up to immaculate conception. I mean, I haven't heard of a Saint Allison yet. So he must have been conceived during your teen years. He looks to be at least fourteen or fifteen. Were you voted most popular cheerleader in high school?" He asked as he moved his foot back to the floor and stood before her. He could almost see the steam rising from her at that remark, and before he knew it, her hand was coming up to meet his cheek with a resounding crack.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Her hand came back for a second try but he caught her wrist, grabbed her other hand, and held them behind her back as he twisted with her until she was pressed against his desk. "You have no idea what I went through in high school! How hard I worked to get where I needed to be in order to go to college!"

"Calm down, little tiger. Your claws are out and quite sharp." He chuckled as he pressed against her, but she continued to squirm. All of a sudden, the boy in the other room was the least of House's worries as her movements started turning his semi-hardness that he had at simply being so near to her, to a full erection. All movement ended as they both became aware of the tension spreading over them, their eyes locked with one another as in her nervousness, Cameron licked her dry lips. "So, tell me green eyes, what do you think I ought to do with you now? You slapped me–what do you think I ought to do back? I'm not really into slapping women though."

House pressed his groin against her, pinning her against the desk, their position bringing back vivid memories from a few weeks earlier. He looked down at her mouth, seeing her tongue pass over her lips again, making it an invitation he couldn't resist. God, but she was beautiful. His lips came down on hers, his tongue moving between them as her tongue quickly responded to his. He released her wrists when he felt her response, knowing he was effecting her the same as she was effecting him. As her hands came up to his face, pulling his kiss closer until they were nearly panting with the deepness of their kiss, his hands moved down her back, grasping onto her perfectly proportioned bottom and pulling her even more closely against his erection. Jesus, but she could quickly make him forget about everything else. He forgot about the glass encased office, he forgot about the people in the hallway, and he forgot about the boy in the next room.

"GET OFF HER!!" Tony's voice came out of nowhere and the next thing House knew, he felt the boy's hands on his shoulders, tearing him back and away from Cameron. The boy came toward House with fists clenched, only ceasing at Cameron's shriek for him to stop.

"Tony, don't!" Cameron grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him away from House, moving quickly to the door that lead to the hallway before looking back at House. "I don't know what you think you heard, but you were mistaken. Tony is my brother, nothing more."

House watched her walk out of his office and head toward the elevator with the boy, still in a bit of shock over being interrupted so abruptly. But shock or not, he was certain he misunderstood nothing. The boy had said "mom" when he ran to Cameron, and she would have to do a lot more convincing for him to believe otherwise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Not a word until we're in the car." Cameron said sternly to the boy whose arm she was grasping.

"But he had no right. . ."

"I said not one word!" Cameron insisted through grit teeth as they walked out of the hospital and toward the parking lot.

Tony looked over at her nervously. He knew she wouldn't like the idea of his showing up without a word, but she was really pissed. He might be taller than her, but he knew better than argue back when she was in this mood. So, they marched across the parking lot until she clicked her key ring and the locks on her silver Saturn flipped up, allowing their entrance.

"Buckle up," she told him as her seat belt clicked and she started her car, backing out of her space and starting for the street beyond. "Now, would you like to explain to me why you decided to come all the way to New Jersey on your own? Does Mom and Dad know you're here? God, they don't think you ran away, do they? No, of course not, otherwise they would have called me by now. "Do" they know you are here?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?" He asked with raised brows. "Jeez!"

"Don't you use that tone with me!" She warned as she looked over at him. "Now, do they know you're here?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. At least I think they do. I left a note."

"You left a note–where?"

"On my bed." He shuffled in his seat. "Yesterday afternoon I told them I was spending the night at my buddy's house. Before I left, I put a note on my pillow and told them I was taking the bus to visit you awhile."

"Well, that means they probably didn't get your note yet or they would have called," she sighed. "Okay, next question. 'Why' did you decide to come."

"I missed you," he told her with a smile that made his blue eyes sparkle with charm. "Why else would I come?"

"Anthony," she warned.

"What? Aint I allowed to miss you?"

Cameron glanced back at him as she turned the corner that sent them in the direction of her apartment. No matter how often she tried to steer this boy in the right direction, he would undoubtably snag her plans and head off in a direction of his own liking. She had watched him grow from a cherubic newborn with the brightest blue eyes she ever seen–well, almost ever–to a toddler, that was always determined to go his own way. Yet no matter how angry she and her parents would get at him for his little indiscretions, such as pouring blue paint on a classmate's yellow dress in kindergarten just to see if blue and yellow really did make green; or taking Cameron's laptop apart to see if he could put it back together again when he was in fifth grade (he could); he could always charm his way out of trouble. He was good at that. He always was. And Cameron winced at the thought of where that characteristic came from.

"Look, I just wanted to spend a few days with you. And. . ." He lost the rest of his sentence as he looked over at Cameron.

"And?" She asked, already knowing what was coming next.

"And, I wanted to get a look at him."

"You already know what he looks like. I never made any secret of that. That's what the picture is for in your scrap book."

"But why can't I meet him."

"Not now."

"But. . ."

"No more Anthony." Cameron turned down a second street. "Just give me a few minutes to think, okay."

By the time they reached Cameron's apartment, the two hadn't spoken more than five words to each other. With another look at Cameron, Tony knew he should not try to talk until they were inside. Cameron went immediately to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then after asking if he was hungry, returned to the living room where he was waiting for her.

"Tony, you know I don't want you here while I'm working."

"Why? Are you ashamed of me?" He asked indignantly.

Cameron's temper cooled as she looked over at his lanky handsomeness. "No, baby. I'd never be ashamed of you. You should know that."

"Then why do I have to stay back home while you're working here?"

"I told you. It isn't any of their business who you are. They have no right to know."

"I think you're just ashamed. I don't care what you say!" Tony moped. "Otherwise you wouldn't have made me leave when he wanted to talk to you. And when the perv had you up against his desk–you wouldn't have gotten so mad when I pushed him away."

"Tony, House is twice your size. Do you really think he couldn't have protected himself back there? " Cameron sat on the coffee table and took his hands in hers. "Tony, "you" are not the person I'm ashamed of."

"Then I don't get it. Who are you ashamed of?"

"Myself mostly, for being so naive when I was a teen. But never you, Tony, never you."

"Then why did you lie and tell them I wasn't your son?" He looked into her eyes. "Don't you love me, Mom?"

"Tony, I love you more than anyone in my life." She leaned forward and hugged him gently. "But for now, it would serve no one's purpose for those people to know you are my son. Up until now, they didn't even know you existed. So, as far as anyone needs to know here, you are my brother."

"Your brother. That's stupid. I don't look anything like gramma or gramps."

"But they don't know that." Cameron stood up and looked down at him. "Now, what are we going to do about getting you back home? You do have school to go to."

"I only missed today. There's an inservice tomorrow, so we're off. I don't have to go back to school until Monday," he mumbled.

Cameron looked at him very closely. God, but he looked like his father, she just hoped that she was the only one at PPTH to see that. "Okay. I have to work tomorrow and Saturday, so you can stay here until then. But on Sunday, you and I are driving back to Gramma's."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"House? You busy?" Wilson stuck his head through the doorway to House's office, but when there was no response from the figure lying in his office chair with both feet propped on his desk, he moved farther into the office and yanked on the ear bud connecting House to his iPod. House's response was immediate as he opened one eye to peer up at his friend. "Oh, you "are" awake."

"Yeah, I'm awake. What you just witnessed was called ignoring someone. It isn't quite as effective if I sit here talking to you."

"Well, since that isn't working for you, then you can answer my questions." Wilson took the seat on the other side of House's desk. "Did Cameron have a visitor today?"

"You know she did–or you wouldn't have asked. So, you've got some interest in my staff's visitors now? Foreman's father came in a few weeks ago–I didn't see you in here asking about him." House continued to watch Wilson from his supine position on the other side of the desk; his hands folded on his abdomen.

"Yes, but I know Foreman's father. So do you and everyone else in this department. I take it this visitor was a bit of a surprise, even to Cameron herself. Chase said she almost fainted."

"She turned a little green–but she didn't faint." House sat up in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his desk. "Is that all Chase had to say?"

"He said the kid called her "mom."

"Yeah, that's what I heard too. But she said we were hearing things. She claims it's her brother."

"Do you believe her?" House gave him a look that told him he thought Wilson was a nit wit. "No, of course you don't. You don't believe anyone. That was a stupid question."

"If it is her kid, she must have had him in high school. He looked to be about fourteen or fifteen." House picked up his cane and began to twirl it as he leaned back in his seat again.

"I know. I saw him. He looks like he packs a hell of a punch too. It wouldn't have taken much and he would have had you laid out on the floor."

The cane stopped twirling as House eyed his friend. "You saw that, too?"

"That's what caught my attention, old buddy. It's not every day I walk down the hall and see you and Cameron getting hot and heavy on your desk. It's no wonder the kid got upset–whether she's his sister or his mother, that isn't something anyone likes to see happening to a loved one, especially when you're that age." Wilson smiled at his friend's discomfort.

"If you saw everything, then why come in and hound me? You already know all the answers."

"Oh, I know the answers to questions that scene brought up. But as far as the kid, I was just curious as to your thoughts."

"You know the answers to what questions." House asked suspiciously.

"Oh, like why I would be walking down the hall to see my best friend about to push his employee down on his desk and make love to her."

"Sex, Wilson. Call it what it is. And that answer should be quite obvious. She got hot–I responded. Nothing extraordinary about that."

"Other than the fact that it isn't "just having sex" with Cameron–or you would have done it long ago. She's got her hooks into you so deep, you'll never be able to "make love" to another woman without thinking of her first."

"And you know all of this, how? Through your infinite knowledge of human nature and more importantly, of my shriveled little heart. Well, you can put your mind at ease, Wilson. It was sex–pure and simple. Just the same as Paula on a Saturday night. Only this time–I wouldn't be paying a fee."

"Whatever you say. But that doesn't answer the question about the boy. I thought you would have checked all of this out long ago. I mean, there are no secrets around you. You know everything about each of your staff members. You know Foreman's police record–or lack of such-- almost as well as he does. You practically know what prayers Chase said at bedtime in seminary school. The fact that you don't know whether this boy is Cameron's son or her brother amazes me."

"Amazing or not–you're putting too much importance on my knowledge of Cameron's personal life. It's none of my business whether she has one kid, twelve kids or no kids. The only thing that concerns me at this time is that she isn't here working, like she's supposed to be."

"Right." Wilson leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. "That's why, when you found out she was seeing Chase, you ran straight to Cuddy like a third-grader tattling on a classmate."

"Someone had to tell her. Can you imagine if a janitor had actually walked in on them in that closet? He would have been traumatized! We would have lost one of our best janitors. Next thing you know, we'll have janitors quitting all over the place–it would be total chaos!"

"So your solution was to "have sex" with her yourself–and instead of the janitor's closet, do it in front of everyone in your office."

"No, my solution was to ask her about the kid. She got mad and one thing lead to another and. . ." House shrugged his shoulders.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Do?"

"About Cameron. About the fact that she might have a son. And the fact that at this point, you've managed to make both of them so angry with you that they thought it was a good idea to use you as a punching bag."

"What makes you think I'm going to do anything?"

"Because I know you House. If anything, this will drive you nuts until you find out how this boy is related to Cameron. And if I know you as well as I think I do, you're not going to rest until you make sure she's not so angry that she can't even stand to be in the same room with you."

House stood up and walked to the other side of his desk. "Wilson, I don't care if she's so pissed that she shoots steam out her ass every time she comes to work. All I care about is that she "comes" to work and does her job. If this kid is going to prevent her from doing this–then it's a problem. If he goes back to Idaho, or Iowa, or wherever in the hell she come's from, then there won't be a problem, will there?"

House turned and started out the door, hearing Wilson's comment follow him down the hall.

"Keep fooling yourself, House," Wilson called after him. "Some day you'll wake up and see what's going on right in front of your nose."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled.

House got into the elevator, heading down to the clinic to put in some much sought after hours that Cuddy had been hounding him about the past two days. He knew it was getting bad if he went there to avoid facing Wilson's accusations. If his infatuation with Cameron was that obvious to Wilson, he'd have to do something to make the man reconsider his observations of his coworkers. He just wasn't sure what that option would be yet. And as far as the boy's relationship with Cameron, it was driving him nuts. How could he have missed anything as important as that when he researched her past. Well, he'd figure a way to solve that puzzle as well.

Right now he needed to go treat some kids with snotty noses just to get his mind off of the kiss and embrace he had shared with Cameron before that little punk came in and interrupted them. Just the thought of it, made his hand shake as he leaned on his cane. The memory of her tongue slipping into his mouth in response to his kiss; the touch of her hands on his face and neck, pulling him to her; and the feel of her gorgeous bottom in his hands. . . Jeez, he needs to find some case of matted conjunctivitis or pus-filled strep or bulging otitis media, or anything that would take his mind off of the hot-headed beauty that was his employee.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Allison stood in the doorway to her kitchen, sipping from a mug of coffee as she watched Tony sitting on the floor in front of her stereo system. He wore head phones as his fingers tapped in time with the music and she knew that if he were back at his grandparents' house, he'd be keeping percussion with his drum sticks. She still wasn't sure what direction Tony's life would take him. He has shown very clear interests in the musical world; he devours medical literature that she has at her parents' house; but then, he just as easily picks up a copy of Modern Mechanic and spends hours trying to rebuild an engine on his grandfather's old truck. He was an enigma . "But," she thought with a sigh and a gentle smile, "he was her enigma."

She remembered back to that summer she had visited Ocean City and the morning after she had given herself completely to Dr. Gregory House. When she found that note, she felt so humiliated! Oh, how she hated House at that moment, and for many moments afterward! And–how she hated herself for her naivete! She often wondered if she had not been in such complete awe of House that weekend; if she would not have believed everything that had been written about him; lifting him to an almost "superstar" status, would she have hung onto his every word–and actually listened to what he was saying to her. A prostitute! She could have died when she realized that everything he said to her that weekend suggested that she was a prostitute–and there she was, fresh out of rural Illinois–thinking he had only her best interests in mind.

After crying her eyes out that morning, Allison decided that she would never be manipulated in such a manner again. She became a stronger person that day as she lifted herself off the floor and took the note from the top of the bureau. She left the currency there. As far as she was concerned, the money was nonexistent. But the note, that was packed into her suitcase as she numbly placed her clothes on top of it. When she was finished, she dressed in her Guess jeans, a brown t-shirt and her beaded sandals. She picked up her bag and glanced around the room, taking a deep breath, then walked out the door. She turned in her room key and waited for a taxi to take her to a nearby airport. She never looked back.

That is, until the following month when she missed her period. She had pacified herself all through June, trying to convince herself that "no one ever get's pregnant the first time." When her pregnancy test proved positive, her rationalization then turned to "maybe not the first time, but what about the second time, or the third time, fourth time or the fifth?" What seemed completely natural during their time together, now seemed superhuman! If nothing else, the man certainly had stamina!

She thought about her mother when she gave her the details that got her into this predicament and how she very stoically took Allison's hand and told her that everything was going to be alright. She told Allison that she worked too hard to give up her dreams of becoming a doctor over this, and, once she told her father and they both calmed him down, this whole situation could be handled with dignity and grace. Mrs. Cameron knew her daughter, and she knew she raised a responsible, highly intelligent young lady.

No, after working so hard through high school, letting her academics completely override any social life she may have had, Mrs. Cameron had no concerns about Allison being promiscuous. Allison had a dream and a path she wanted to follow. Socializing with boyfriends wasn't even near the top of that list. If something happened while she was away on her trip to Ocean City, it was because Allison wanted it to happen, and the boy must have been someone exceedingly special. If Allison didn't want to pursue a relationship with that boy, then so be it.

But the child was a different story. Allison grew to love the child as soon as she knew of its existence. So, with complete understanding that this was the only time this would ever happen, Allison and her parents agreed that she should go on as planned, and continue with her education and then her career. In the meantime, she would carry her baby to term, then let her parents raise the child. She would make weekly visits while she was in Illinois for the first few years, then eventually, as she moved to New Jersey, monthly visits at home with at least weekly telephone conversations, and even more recently, daily emails.

"Mom?" Tony's voice jerked Cameron back to the present as she looked at him still sitting on the floor, but now he was looking at her with the headphones lying on his lap. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"When we go for groceries, can we stop and get a mitt and ball or something? It's gonna be a long day tomorrow if you're working and I have to stay here all by myself."

"And where do you plan on using this mitt and baseball?" She took another sip of her coffee. "I don't want you out running the streets."

"There are batting cages over behind that alley. I saw them from the bathroom window."

"Oh, I forgot about those. Yes, I guess that would be alright."

"Does "he" like to play baseball?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, kiddo. I must say that's a subject that's never come up between us." She had to smile though at the thought of House playing tee-ball as a youngster. "And, I must also say that you can get any thoughts of ever tossing a baseball with him right out of your head. He has about as much interest in socializing with teenage boys as he has in playing Santa Claus in the Christmas parade." Cameron took her coffee mug back to the kitchen, but continued talking. "But, if you want a mitt, we can stop on the way and get one. At least I'll know you're occupied while I'm at work."

"Can we have steak tonight?" Tony asked hopefully as the telephone started ringing in the room where he was sitting.

"You can have steak, but you're eating a salad with it. Can you grab that Tony?" She called to him as she picked up her keys and wallet, returning to the room to hear him mumbling into the handset before hanging up and turning to look at his mother. "Who was that?"

"It was House." He seemed confused. "He said he'll be here at seven o'clock to take us to dinner."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

House stood outside Cameron's apartment at precisely six-fifty-five and raised his cane to knock on the door. His clinic hours minimally served his purpose, providing a distraction that only lasted for the first two or three patients. By the time he signed out for the afternoon, he had been thinking of Cameron and her young relative more than he wanted to. He retreated to his office, expecting to only grab his jacket then head home, but before he knew it, he was dialing Cameron's home telephone, informing the young boy that they would be accompanying him to dinner.

The door opened and House was being stared at by a young dark-haired teen with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. After nearly fifteen seconds of total silence as they looked at each other, House finally took the initiative to speak.

"You don't look like you're dressed for dinner," House commented on the boy's black "Breaking Benjamin" t-shirt, blue jeans and a pair of Converse sneakers.

The boy looked at the dark gray t-shirt beneath the jacket that House was wearing, the jeans and Nikes.

"She's in the kitchen," Tony mumbled as he simply turned around, went back to the television and picked up his control to the Play Station.

"O-kay," House said with one raised brow as he entered the apartment and closed the door. He made his way the short distance to the kitchen doorway, seeing Cameron in a pair of shorts, a short-sleeved pullover blouse and bare feet. "Must run in the family."

Cameron whirled around in surprise. "House, I didn't hear you come in."

"Evidently you're turning down my invitation to take you and the brat to dinner." He leaned against the doorway as he watched her grilling a steak on her stove.

"You mean, your order, don't you? I don't recall being asked." She moved to the refrigerator and took out some lettuce and tomatoes, then moved to the island in the center of the kitchen with them.

"Same thing, isn't it?" He moved into the kitchen with her, picking a cherry tomato from its plastic container and popping it into his mouth.

"No House, it is not the same thing. As you can see, we already had dinner planned. An invitation would not sound like–I'll be there at seven to take you to dinner. It would sound more like–would you like to have dinner with me tonight."

"Okay." He reached for another tomato.

"Okay–what?" She looked up at him as she leaned on her counter top.

"You asked if I'd like to have dinner with you tonight. I said okay."

"And what if I said I didn't buy enough steak to feed you?"

"I can eat a salad."

"Why?" She asked in frustration.

"Because if you don't have enough meat–a salad will have to do."

"I meant why do you want to eat here?"

"I know what you meant." He turned to lean back against the counter, next to where she stood. "I also know that if you didn't want me over here, you would have called and told me not to come."

"You already left the office."

"Do you really want me to go?" He turned to look down at her, the sight of her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail with her eyes sparkling up at him. Those green eyes always had a way of pulling him into her very being. Their gazes were locked on one another.

"Hey! We gonna eat soon? I'm getting hungry." Tony's voice from the doorway broke their silent connection.

Looking from the boy to House, Cameron picked up a knife and cucumber and handed them to the man. "Here. Slice this."

If there was one word to describe dinner, it was awkward, but it gave House the opportunity to observe the two of them together as he wanted to. As it turned out, Cameron did have enough steak for everyone, with a baked potato and salad on the side. If nothing else, Cameron could certainly cook. Proof of that came as Tony had half of his food eaten by the time Cameron took her seat.

"Tony, slow down. I'm not in the mood to do the Heimlich tonight." Cameron said absently as she picked up her knife and fork and began cutting her steak.

"I won't choke," Tony complained.

"Okay, then slow down and prove you have some kind of table manners," she told him.

After that, conversation was minimal, any attempt to talk to Tony was usually met with a short mumble while keeping his gaze pointed in the direction of the television in the room. House kept a keen eye on the boy and Cameron. There was nothing he could put his finger on, but he was positive their relationship wasn't that of a brother and sister as she had tried to convince him earlier that day.

Finally, as the boy was about to scrape the last bit of his food off his plate, House had had enough. He came there for information and decided it was time to get it.

"So, kid–you want to tell me who your sire is?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"So, old man–you wanna tell me who hatched you out on a rock? Then, maybe, I'll think about tellin' ya about my father." Tony said as he got up from the table and took his plate over to the sink.

"Tony," Cameron admonished quietly but sternly, as she stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork."That's enough."

"What about him?" Tony turned and looked at her. "He isn't exactly the king of manners either, ya know."

"I can't control what comes out of his mouth," she responded to the boy just as quietly as before.

"But you can control what comes out of "'his" mouth?" House snickered as he took a bite of his steak.

"Listen, ya old goat!"

"Anthony! That–is–enough!" Cameron put her fork down on the table with a little more force than was necessary. "If you're finished eating, go in the room until we're done."

"Fine!" The boy stomped into the living room.

"Fine," House mimicked as the boy walked past him.

"House," Cameron hissed.

"He started it." He looked at her with wide eyes.

"Right." She tried a piece of her own steak. "Why did you come here tonight, House?"

"I thought that was obvious. I came to take you and the rugrat to dinner." He went on eating as he looked back down to his plate.

"I don't think so. I saw where you parked your motorcycle." She took a sip of her water. "I don't think the three of us could have gotten to the restaurant on the back of it. You had no intentions of taking us to dinner."

"You had no intentions of going. I sort of figured you'd refuse, considering the slap in the face I received today."

"Considering the slap in the face–you still chose to come to my home tonight." She took another sip of her water as she looked at him. "Why?"

"Again, obvious–I want to know when you had the runt."

Cameron leaned back in her seat and looked at him closely, then started gathering her dishes.

"Why Dr. House, what makes you think I wasn't a virgin up until the day I met you?" She asked flippantly.

"You were married," he said in a dull tone as he leaned back, having also finished his meal.

"He had cancer," she retaliated.

"He didn't have testicular cancer."

"It metastasized."

"I don't believe you."

"That's your prerogative, then, isn't it?" She stood and started removing the dishes from the table and stacking them in the sink.

"You're evading." House moved to stand behind her. His nearness sending a tingle through her.

"And you're being ridiculous!" She turned until she was facing him. "I don't get it. So big deal–my brother shows up at work! You wouldn't be this concerned if it were Chase's brother or Foreman's!"

"Like I said before–he called you "mom." It sort of leads one to believe that you are–uh–his MOM." He leaned closer to her. "Or does "mom" mean something else in rural Illinois, other than "mother." I somehow doubt it means sister!"

"I told you–you misunderstood." She tried to move around him but he blocked her path.

"Chase heard him, too."

"He probably got caught up in his own accent and didn't understand what Tony said!" She told him as she nearly stomped her foot in frustration, staring up at him with her fists on her hips. "Since when do you listen to anything Chase says, anyway?"

"I don't. But even a toddler can hear and understand the word "mom." Even if the kid hadn't said anything–what made you practically go for a swan dive into the carpet when you saw him?"

"I had a headache."

"Yeah, a big one–about fifteen years ago."

"Tony is not a headache!"

"Said as only a mother can say about a pain in the ass kid."

"House! Why are you doing this? Why do you care?!" She raised her hands in the air in exasperation.

"I don't care."

"Then why?"

"I want to know. It helps explain why you're . . ."

"Yeah, I know. I've heard this before. So, if I had a son when I was nineteen, that would explain everything to you. It would explain why I'm "damaged" Well, get past it, House. If you want a puzzle to concentrate on, go back down to Cuddy's office or offer to take her to another play!" This time when she tried to walk past him, he put an arm on each side of her as he placed his hands on the edge of the sink. "Let me through."

"What's this, jealousy?" He laughed at her as he brought his face down to stare directly into her eyes. "What do you care what I do with my spare time, little girl? You're too busy taking the wombat into closets to notice what I'm doing with anyone."

"I am "not" taking the wombat–I mean Chase–into closets!" She hissed at him.

"Come on, that boy's so whipped, I can practically see the ring in his nose that you're yanking him around with! So, don't stand there and try to tell me that "he's taking you" into the closets."

"I'm not yanking anything!" She insisted–then as he raised his brow and she realized what she said, she felt her face turn crimson. "That's not what I meant–and you know it."

"Well, maybe not yanking. . ."

"House!" This time she couldn't stop herself from stomping her foot, bringing a smile to him as he fixed his eyes on hers. "Please, just go home. There is no mystery here. Just leave it at that."

"Okay, we'll do it your way–for tonight," he sighed, then started for the living room as she remained in the kitchen. "Thanks for dinner. It was entertaining."

Tony moved to the door ahead of House, opening it for him as he looked at the older man with undisguised amusement.

"And what do you find so comical?" House asked as he paused to put his jacket on.

"Nothing."

"Good. Better get some rest tough guy–I'll be seeing you again before you leave." House walked out the door.

"Oh? Spending more time with us, huh?" Tony said glibly.

"You can count on it."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. I mean, seeing as how well you and "my mom" get along and all." Tony laughed as he closed the door between them.

House turned and started down the hall, a small smile spreading across his own face. There certainly was something about the kid–he wasn't sure if it was something he liked–or something that could lead him to kick the punk in the ass. But there was definitely something!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When Cameron entered the Diagnostic's conference room the next day, Foreman was already sitting at the table, strumming his fingers on its top in complete boredom. Chase, on the other hand was pacing back and forth, his agitation showing in the way he would run his hand up through his usually flawless hair.

"But he called her–mom," Chase rambled to Foreman, who rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I don't know what he called her," Foreman said with very little interest. "I don't "care" what he called her. Couldn't we just focus on the patient instead of Cameron's maternal state?"

"But he called her mom," Chase insisted again.

"So what if he did?! And I'm not saying he did or not! I don't care if he called her mom, sis or even Mother Superior! It's none of my business."

"Thank you Foreman." Cameron took off her jacket and replaced it with the lab coat she had hanging near the door. "That's very commendable of you. Too bad everyone doesn't feel that way."

"But he called you mom," Chase persisted.

"Chase, if you say that one more time, I'll go back home and spend the day with my "brother," and you can cover clinic hours and any new cases without my help." Cameron threatened as she moved to the coffee pot, preparing to start their morning brew.

"That's not an option." House walked in from his office and spoke to Cameron. "You're staying here today. Chase, you, on the other hand, are free to go home if you can't control your idiotic observations."

"But he. . ." Chase looked stupidly at House but stopped when House raised his hand in warning.

"Be careful Romeo, or I'll separate you from Juliet for the rest of the day." House walked up behind Cameron and watched as she prepared the coffee. "Don't want to miss today's rendevous, do you?"

"Could we please concentrate on work?" Cameron asked.

"Yes, I'd really like to change the subject to work, if you don't mind," Foreman spoke up with frustration.

"Fine, ruin all our girl-talk." As House reached around Cameron for his mug, his arm brushed her breast. His gaze captured hers after she almost dropped the container of water she was about to pour into the top of the machine. "Calm down, green eyes. That little brush with heaven was "almost" an accident."

"House! What are you doing?!" Cuddy's voice cut through House's and Cameron's silent contact, turning House's head with a snap. Cuddy said under her breath to House. "Do you think you can point your attention to our patients for a few minutes, rather than the romantic trysts of our employees?"

"I can do both. I have you know, I'm very good at multi-tasking, when I want to be."

"That's good to hear, because there was a pile-up on 95 and they're on their way."

"Oh good, that means they're not here yet. That should give you two little lovebirds about five minutes. If you make a run for the closet now–you should make it down to the ER just in time, Chase."

"Shut up, House. And go–the ER is waiting for all of you." Cuddy ordered.

Cameron's day was incredibly long, besides concentrating on their initial patient that had been their case for the last two days, there must have been thirty patients brought in from the traffic accident that day. House, being House, managed to leave at the end of his shift, while she, Foreman and Chase were instructed to stay and follow up on some tests on their initial patient.

It must have been nearly midnight when Chase and Foreman insisted they get a hold of House, and when their telephone calls went unanswered, they sent Cameron over to his apartment. She saw his motorcycle parked in its usual parking space, so she knew he was home. She knocked several times. When he didn't respond to the knocking, she called him on her cell phone, but still he didn't answer.

At that point she called Foreman at the hospital, and he suggested she just go inside and get him. She argued the point, telling him she didn't think he would appreciate her just barging in on him, but Foreman only laughed at her and told her to go inside anyway. He doubted House would mind at all. Still she was a bit apprehensive and called House on her cell once again but still no response.

After knocking again, she finally reached above the door jam where she knew he kept his extra key, and moved inside. There were no signs of him in the living room so she quietly made her way back towards his bedroom. "Jeez, I hope he doesn't have anyone back there with him," she thought to herself as she got closer to his room, then sighed a breath of relief when she peaked inside and saw he was indeed alone on his bed. Still, she remained quiet, not wanting to startle him, as she made her way up to his side of the bed, sitting next to him and hoping for a gentle awakening.

The awakening didn't go quite as peacefully as she had hoped, but after the initial shock of seeing someone sitting on his bed, he wasn't as grumpy as she thought he could be, and once it was decided that a telephone call back to Foreman and Chase was adequate and he wasn't needed back at the hospital, he moved into his living room to find a sleepy Cameron sitting on his sofa.

"Should I drive you back to the hospital?" Cameron asked as she stood up and pulled her keys from her jacket pocket, her eyes drooping even as she looked up at him.

"No need. They can watch over things until morning when I go in."

"Oh, okay," she said through a yawn. "I'll head back then."

"I said there was no need."

"I thought you meant that only you didn't have to go back," she explained.

"No. Those two can cover things until we both can go in. You look like you're almost sleeping on your feet."

"I am tired, very tired." She moved toward the door. "Ill see you tomorrow, then. I better get home to Tony."

"No." House reached out and took her keys from her. "Tony's a big boy. He can spend the night by himself. He would have had to spend it alone if you went back to the hospital, anyway. Tonight–you stay here with me."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"I can't stay here!" Cameron followed House as he carried her keys into his bedroom.

"Of course you can stay here. Wilson used to stay here when his wife kicked him out. Only difference is that I made him sleep on the couch. I won't make you sleep on the couch."

"You want me to sleep in your bed?!" Cameron's eyes were huge. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Uh–yeah." He rolled his eyes at her. "Unless you think Chase will come over and demand equal time."

"House. . .I. . ."

"Get into bed, Cameron. I won't devour you," he said simply, picking his pillows off the bed, but letting two pillows remain. "You're too tired to drive home–I'm too tired to drive you home. Go to sleep. I'll be out on the couch."

Cameron was dumbfounded as she watched him leave the bedroom. She never imagined she would ever have a "sleep-over" with House. Oh, she had fantasized about sleeping at his apartment–but it never involved her sleeping in his bed while he slept on the sofa. Almost apprehensively, she moved to press on the bed, testing the springs then slowly pulling the blanket back to cover the sheet. She sat on the side of the bed, bounced on it once or twice and then slipped her shoes off and lay back on its firmness. She wasn't used to sleeping in her dress slacks and a blouse. Her usual attire for sleeping included either long lounge pants, or short ones, and generally an oversized t-shirt or spaghetti-strapped pajama top. She lay on her side, facing the side of the bed that House had been on when she arrived. She could smell him on the pillows and felt her pulses react. After five minutes of lying in that position, she turned onto her right side, facing the other side of the room. She could hear a clock ticking, ticking, ticking. She turned onto her stomach, punching the pillow beneath her as she felt herself getting more and more tense. She rolled onto her back and stared up toward the ceiling. Now she could hear the traffic from outside.

"This is impossible!" Cameron sat up and moved her feet to the floor. Within seconds, she was kneeling next to House's supine figure as he seemed to be dozing on the sofa. "House."

His eyes opened and he stared at her in complete frustration. "You're making this extremely difficult. I'm pitying the wombat now. He must never get any sleep."

"I don't "sleep" with Chase," she said indignantly.

"Oh, sorry, I got sleeping and having sex confused for a second. It must be my "exhaustion" that's making my brain a bit fuzzy!"

"Well, I don't do that anymore either." Cameron's hand covered her mouth in embarrassment. How could she have said that to him, especially considering their sleeping arrangements for the night. She must be sleepier than she thought. Her statement opened House's eyes a little wider as he watched her kneeling before him.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"We. . .I. . .it's better this way. Let's just leave it at that."

"Okay. Now, should we move on to why you're not letting me get any sleep tonight?"

"I. . .well, I'm not used to. . .you see, when I sleep at home, I. . ."

"Cameron! Spit it out! Damn!" House sat up on the sofa, nearly knocking Cameron onto her rump in the process. His hands made a rasping noise as he rubbed them over his stubbled face. "What's the problem?"

"I'm not used to sleeping in these clothes. I can't sleep."

"Fine." He moved back into his bedroom and started going through his bureau drawers, looking at various items until he pulled out a Penn State football jersey. He turned around and held it up against her, approving the size, then took her back to the bathroom. "Go put this on."

Cameron took her time folding her clothes on a pile as she changed in the bathroom. She hoped this would make a difference and she could fall asleep and not bother him anymore. She could demand her keys be returned to her, but the fact was that the drive back to her place was at least thirty minutes and with the steady lull of the road, she was afraid she would fall asleep at the wheel. When she came out of the bathroom, she saw House leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

"I'm so sorry. I promise, I won't keep you awake any more." Cameron said as she stepped into the hall wearing only the jersey that traveled nearly to her knees, and her panties.

"You think this will let you fall asleep now, huh?" He asked before turning his head to look at her. But when he did look at her, he stopped everything. He took in her long, naked legs, and the way her dark hair fell over her shoulders. He felt as if he were hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. The picture of her nearly naked, wearing only the football jersey, was so damn familiar to him. Where did he see it before?! His mind raced, trying to place that memory. Suddenly he felt a bulge in his lounge pants and he was amazed at the quickness of it. Christ, he hadn't been this aroused in years! He continued staring at her as she looked back at him, her eyes wide as she saw what she identified as recognition enter his eyes. But the fact was that he just couldn't place it. The picture was as familiar to him and any memory he had of his youth–but it was fuzzy, so completely out of focus that he had no way to connect it to anything real. "What the hell?"

Cameron realized her mistake immediately. How could she have been so stupid? This was practically the same thing she wore fifteen years earlier, when he had mistaken her for a hooker. Her eyes were locked with his, unable to look away, waiting like a doe caught in someone's headlights, not knowing what to do. Finally, she managed to sputter something incoherently.

"I. . .I. . .."

House stared at her, completely entranced. He couldn't even begin to fathom what was turning his need to something so strong he was on the verge of disgracing himself right in front of her. He knew it was a mistake, inviting her to spend the night, but in fact, he had been too sleepy to drive her home–and he didn't want her getting into an accident because she was in dire need of rest, herself. Now, sleep was the last thing on his mind, and without any rhyme or reason, he knew he wanted this woman more than any other woman he had ever wanted in his life.

"Shut up," he said gruffly, reaching out and pushing her up against the wall. His hands went to her face, holding her still as his lips met hers. In her surprise, her mouth opened, allowing his entry, enticing her with his skill until her tongue was responding to his, touching it, pulling it back into her mouth as she alternately sucked on it and pressed her own tongue into his awaiting kiss. His hands moved over her shoulders, down over her body and pausing only a moment to cup her breast and fondle it before reaching his destination at her hips. He held her against the wall as he pressed himself against her, gyrated his steel length against her abdomen. He heard her whimper and wondered if he was hurting her as his kiss was nearly violent in its need. But when he moved his head back slightly, she moved her hands down his sides, pushing him back with a want as desperate as his. He landed against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, his surprise coming when she lifted his t-shirt and started kissing his chest, moving over it's muscles as she went first to one nipple, and after feeling it harden to her satisfaction, crossing over to its twin. He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside, feeling like he were going to explode as her mouth moved lower on his abdomen. Her tongue circled his naval as her hand surrounded him through his pants, squeezing and releasing him before going for his waistband. "No, not yet."

His moan brought her eyes back up to his face as he reached down and pulled her back to her feet. He lifted her legs around him as he pressed her back to the wall again, this time, his arousal was pressing against her throbbing, sensitive area, and they both released moans of the intensest desire they could imagine. He looked from one end of the hall to the other, deciding that the closest destination would be the living room sofa. Her lips met his again as he hurried with her to the softness of the cushions, leaning over her and pressing against her in a rhythm that had them both panting. He pushed the jersey up over her breasts and moved his mouth to the buds that were hard and demanding his kiss.

"Jesus, Cameron, I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now," escaped his lips without his even being aware of it until it was too late. But now was not the time for him to worry about what he said. All he could concentrate on was the fact that she was beneath him and responding with a fire that was astounding him.

"Please, House. Please," she breathed against his hair.

"Please, what?" He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. Those damn green eyes that have been haunting him since the day he hired her. "Please what, Cameron?"

"Now, please, now."

His smile was brief as he looked at her. He was ready to oblige.

"Anything you say, green eyes." His hands moved to her panties, his fingers just inside her waistband, ready to pull them off of her, when the telephone rang, it's shrillness stopping them momentarily. "Let it ring. The machine will pick it up."

But when the machine picked it up as he was drawing her panties down past her knees, the voice at the other end froze Cameron. Her whole body going nearly rigid beneath House.

"Um–Allison, I called the hospital and some Australian dude told me you went over to the "goat's house." If you're still there, I . . .um. . . well, I kinda ran into a problem with your microwave and a bag of popcorn. I sort of set off your fire alarm and when I tried to stop it from waking up the whole apartment house, I kinda hit it with your broom and knocked it over onto your book shelf and then the broom hit the shelf and it came off the hooks and like ten of your books fell onto your lamp and that got knocked over and went right into your TV. And well, to make a long story short–the place is filled with smoke and I can't watch television."

House lay on top of Cameron, both of them listening to the tale of calamity with growing interest. The only difference was that House found the whole situation amazingly humorous while Cameron shifted beneath him and reached for the telephone.

"Tony? Honey, are you alright?" She sat up as she held the phone to her ear. "Are you sure. No, it's fine. Just as long as you're okay."

House got to his feet and made his way back to his bedroom where he changed from his lounge pants into a pair of blue jeans and pulled on a pair of Nikes. When he came back out to the livingroom, he found Cameron in her work clothes, looking rather abashed.

"Come on." He took her arm and headed for the door with her. "It looks like no one's getting any sleep tonight thanks to your delinquent relative. I'll drive you home and help air out your place."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The trip to Cameron's apartment was very nearly in silence, with only occasional glances from Cameron as she watched the tension on House's face. She could see the frustration in every gesture he made. Finally, she couldn't take the silence any longer.

"House, I'm really sorry," Cameron started.

"Yeah, I know. You said that before."

"Okay. You're angry. I can understand that."

"He did it on purpose, ya know," House griped.

"Did what? Burned his popcorn? Come on, House. It was an accident."

"No–I didn't mean burn his popcorn," he said snidely. "The little reprobate called at the perfect time!"

"Tony is not a reprobate!" Cameron argued. "He is a very responsible, intelligent boy. He is amazingly intelligent, as a matter of fact."

"Yeah, it sounded it." House pulled up in front of her apartment building and got out of the car. She got out and followed him.

"And how could he have timed it perfectly? It isn't like "we" even knew what was going to happen–so how could he have known. You're being very immature."

"You're being over-protective."

"I am not. I'm just standing up for a defenseless child."

"Defenseless child? When was the last time you saw a "child"' that stands almost six feet tall?" He walked down the hall toward her door. "He's no child. He's a Doberman pincher waiting to attack."

"Baby," she called him as she entered her apartment and was met with the horrid smell of burnt-to-charcoal microwave popcorn. She put her hand to her nose as she looked at the television that had a lamp sticking out of its screen; the books that had toppled on top of the end table where the lamp used to be; the shelf that was hanging by one hook and the smoke alarm that lay in pieces on the floor next to her broom. She entered the kitchen where the boy was waving a large piece of cardboard in the air, trying to flush the smoke-filled air through the opened window over the sink.

"Wow!" Tony exclaimed upon sight of her. "Your microwave is a lot more powerful than ours at home." He stopped speaking as House entered the kitchen behind Tony's mother.

"Don't worry about it. I should have shown you how to use it before I left this morning. Not all microwaves are the same."

"I'm sorry about the TV. I never thought all that would happen. I was just trying to stop the damn smoke alarm."

"Language, Tony," Cameron said absently as she went to the sink where the bag of blackened popcorn was wet, but still smoking.

"Do you have any fans? The bigger, the better," House suggested.

"Yes. In my closet."

After nearly an hour of having one box fan in the window, sucking the smoky air outside, and another fan in the kitchen doorway, drawling the air from the rest of the apartment, the air was still rank, but much more breathable. They spent that hour sweeping up glass from the television and lamp, reattaching the book shelf and putting the books back, and unsuccessfully trying to put the smoke alarm back together. That, as well as the television and lamp were casualties of the mishap.

House put the broom back after sweeping the glass onto the dust pan Cameron held for him. He looked tired when she arrived at his apartment earlier, now he looked completely exhausted. Tony, on the other hand seemed quite refreshed as he stood in the livingroom, watching them closely as he ate a bowl of cereal.

"What are you eating?" House asked the boy with repugnance as Cameron took the broken glass out to the garbage can.

"Apple Jacks. Why, you want some?" Tony smiled at the man with amusement.

"No–I don't want some. That's just what you need–a bowl full of sugar. Maybe you can destroy the whole apartment on your next sugar rush."

"Maybe we ought to head over to your place then. I could do the place up right."

"And what makes you think I would invite you to my place?"

"You invited my "sister," didn't you?"

"And how would you know that?" House eyed him closely.

"Not so difficult, Mr. Lover Boy." The boy walked over toward him and reached up with his free hand and tapped him on the neck. "I bet you didn't have that big hickey at the hospital today."

At that moment Cameron returned to the room, just in time to see House reach his hand up and place it on his neck. He turned his gaze to her and then back to Tony.

"Isn't it time for all good little boys to be in bed so they can grow big and tall and not be a pain in everyone's ass?" House grumped.

Tony only chuckled at him as he continued to eat his cereal, singing, "Mr. Roooo-roooo-mantic," between bites.

"House, what's wrong with your neck?" Cameron wondered aloud, not fathoming why he would be standing in the middle of her living room, staring at Tony while holding his hand over the side of his throat.

"What do you think is wrong with it?" He hissed as he removed his hand, allowing her to look at his throat.

"It looks like a neck," she replied, still looking confused.

"What's on it?" He leaned his head to the side, exposing more of his throat and neck to her.

"What are you talking about? House, there's nothing there."

House moved to the mirror that was on the livingroom wall, looking at himself to see that there was, indeed, nothing there. When he looked back at the boy, he had left the room to take his bowl back to the kitchen, then upon re-entering, reached down and kissed Cameron on the cheek before looking back over at House.

"Night ,sis," then to House, he added. "Gotcha! Mr. Boombastic."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

House managed to get about four hours of sleep after he drove back to the hospital and stretched out on the couch in his office. He couldn't face going home. Not after the episode he had with Cameron. No, he'd get a few hours of rest then start in by nine o'clock trying to keep himself busy so he wouldn't continue to concentrate on the feel of her body as it squirmed beneath his, the sound of her little whimpers as she pulled him tightly against her, the smell of her shampoo and perfume filling his nostrils as he nuzzled her neck. No, he couldn't remain idle, or he'd be tempted to drag Cameron into his office and finish what they had begun at his apartment. By lunch time he knew he even had to get out of his office, by then thoughts of throwing her on his desk and ravishing her were becoming too vivid.

"You look like hell," Wilson observed as he followed House down the food line in the hospital cafeteria.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know." House had two hotdogs and a pile of fries put on his plate. "I didn't get much sleep."

"Really? I'd think you'd be sleeping like a baby." Wilson pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, paying for both House's lunch as well as his chef salad he had on his tray.

"And why would I be sleeping like a baby?" House asked, the need of sleep sounding in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know. You've got a case that's still open, you're working on Cameron's relationship with that boy. You should be in your element, having a riddle you haven't solved yet. So, why haven't you been sleeping?" He took a seat next to House.

"I was up late last night doing some role-playing with Cameron. I was the fireman, she was the fire-person and her blockhead kid was the catastrophic Dalmatian."

"What?" Wilson laughed at his friend's anxiety. "You spent the night with Cameron and her brother?"

"She stopped in at my place to fill me in on the case. Her "brother" called while she was there to inform her that he just demolished her kitchen and living room."

"How. . ." Wilson began but stopped when House shook his head negatively as he took a bite of his hot dog.

"Don't ask. But if my sibling would have called to tell me what that little hood told her, I wouldn't have answered the phone with "Oh honey, are you alright, did the big old mean microwave hurt you?" House continued, using a falsetto tone. "That's how a mother would react – not a sister."

"So you went over to help them? How commendable of you."

"Yeah, well, actually I just wanted to see if the kid could have done as much damage as I heard him rattle off on the answering machine."

"I thought you said Cameron talked to him on the phone."

"She did." House was concentrating on the ketchup he couldn't find, reaching across a custodian who was sitting at the next table to take his bottle.

"But, you said the kid left a message on the answering machine."

"No, I said I heard him on the answering machine. She picked up just as he was finishing his itinerary on how to destroy an apartment in less than two minutes."

"Just finishing? What took her so long to get to the phone–or what took you so long to get to it? You're apartment isn't that big."

"We were busy." He said quite deliberately as he looked up at Wilson. "We were discussing a case."

"No you weren't!" Wilson pounced on his realization of what most likely was taking place in House's apartment the previous night. "At least not while he called. You would have picked up when you first heard his voice–but you didn't. You let him go through his whole story! You were busy, alright–but not with the case! You were having sex with her!"

"Ya know, you're so concerned about what you "think" may have been going on–are you sure you're not the one who'd like to have hot sex with my female employee?"

"Sheez! That's stupid. Of course I'd like to have sex with her! Who wouldn't?" Wilson laughed at the look on House's face. "House, that gets you every time. Why don't you just accept the fact that you're crazy about her? It would make everyone's life around here a lot easier. Who knows–it might even make you happy."

"Happiness is overrated."

"So, I've heard." Wilson sighed as he stabbed a piece of chicken and put it in his mouth.

"Ah, Christ!" House's eyes lifted to the entrance of the cafeteria, watching the boy standing there, scanning the people in the large room until he spotted House and started walking his way. "Speak of the little beast–here he comes."

"Who? Cameron's brother?!" Wilson looked up to see the tall, lanky boy walking steadily toward them. The fork that he was using clanked to the floor as it fell out of his hands upon seeing something in this boy that no one else had seen. "Oh my, God!"

"No, I'd say more like Beelzebub." House leaned back in his chair as he watched the boy still approaching, the boy's eyes never leaving House's as he seemed amused to see him there.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Wilson watched the interaction silently. He had no choice–he practically lost his voice as he took in the image of the young House replica. He could see it in the eyes, he could see it in the hair; he saw it in the shape of the face and the height and weight of the boy. He looked back at House. He couldn't believe that the other man didn't see the great resemblance, but then he doubted House looked in the mirror all that much. Everything about this kid was a younger version of his best friend–even the mocking attitude the boy showed as he looked at House. The one main difference was the smile. The kid seemed to find great humor in House's discomfort.

"Well, if it isn't our friendly little arsonist." House took a drink of his coffee. "You find that apartment buildings aren't big enough, you want to try to demolish a whole hospital now?"

"How's that rash on your neck, Casanova?" Tony asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, much better. It seemed to have cleared up immediately."

"I hear those rashes have a tendency to come back though. I'd be careful about that."

"You have a purpose for coming here today? Or are you just here to antagonize me?" House went back to his hotdog and fries.

"I'm looking for Allison. You do realize you forgot to bring her car home last night, don't ya, genius? She had to get up early so she could catch a cab over to your place to get it."

"Not my car." House remarked simply, a little unnerved that in all truth, he was too overwhelmed with their little interlude to even think about her car. "I guess that magical disappearing love bite had me so mystified, I didn't stop and think about her car. So, why are you looking for her?"

"I got a phone call from home. You know where she is?"

"No. But she does have a cell phone. You do know what a cell phone is, don't you? Or don't they have them down on the farm where you come from?"

"House–knock it off." Wilson stood up and extended his hand to the teen, impressed with the returning handshake he received. "Hello. My name is James Wilson. I work with your "sister" occasionally. If you sit down with us and wait, I'm sure Dr. House would be happy to beep her for you."

"Hi. I'm Tony."

"Now you've taken all the fun out of watching him search through the entire hospital for her." House rolled his eyes at Wilson. "What fun are you?"

"You don't have to beep her, Dr. House. I can spend the rest of my afternoon with you and I'm sure she'll come back to the office before she heads home."

Wilson was impressed with the attitude this boy had; he gave as good as he got. Again, the main difference between the two of them as they verbally sparred was that while House would go from a sarcastic amusement to irritability, Tony seemed to find the jousting enjoyable.

"I don't think so. I'm not babysitting you the rest of the afternoon. What was your message from home?"

"The message was for Allison."

"I'm her boss. I need to know if your message will affect her work." House continued to bait the boy.

"He doesn't need to know." Wilson interrupted. "Don't let him scam you. If it affects Cameron's working schedule, or performance, she can let him know about it after you tell her."

"Wilson," House moped. "How am I ever going to find anything out if you're going to be his proverbial guardian angel?"

"So, Tony," Wilson ignored House. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"No. I left the apartment before I ate." He looked back at Wilson's chef salad, then at House's nearly empty dish with only a partial hotdog and a few fries.

"Come with me." Wilson stood up and motioned for the boy to follow him to the beginning of the food line. "Here, get whatever you want. Would you like a salad?"

"No. I get enough of those when I'm at home. I don't want a salad."

"Okay, whatever you want. Oh, and don't forget a drink."

Tony went down the line and put three hotdogs and a pile of cheese fries on his plate, then got a large styrofoam cup filled with chocolate milk. Wilson's curiosity about this kid was growing by the minute. He could find no reasoning for his suspicions, none of it made sense. But he was sure he would get to the bottom of it before the next few days were over. Either this kid was one big coincidence–or he was directly related to House. Either way, Wilson was going to find out.

"What do you mean, Gramma doesn't want you to come home tomorrow?" Cameron was shocked as she stood with Tony in the privacy of the conference room. Her mother loved Tony with all her heart. She could think of no reason she wouldn't want him to come home to her.

"She said the whole road is having trouble with their sewage. A pipeline ruptured and they aren't allowed to use the plumbing until they have it fixed. She said her and Gramps have to go stay with Aunt Lilly for the next week. They think it will be fixed by then."

"But what about school?" She crossed her arms over her chest in a nervous gesture. "You can't miss a whole week of school."

"Actually, I can. Gram said she talked to the principal and since we can't go back to our house, and since I'm here with you at a teaching hospital, I could take up to two weeks off and use the time as an "educational trip." That way I get credit for learning while I'm here–and I don't have to make up my school work."

"But I can't keep you here in the hospital! It wouldn't take very long for someone to pick up on your resemblance to your father, and that's the last thing I need."

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll stay out of everyone's way. I'll be quiet as a mouse, and as invisible as a phantom. No one will notice me."

Wilson had taken his time eating his salad at lunch, noticing how Tony seemed to inhale his food much in the same manner as House. He was still astounded at the similarities between the two, and even more amazed that not only couldn't House see them, but no one else seemed capable of seeing them as well. Well, on second thought, not many people at the hospital had the courage to take a close look at House. They preferred giving him a wide path to travel. Wilson waited for House and Tony to stand up to leave, then stood also and offered to take their trays back so they could go in search of Cameron. Luckily, House was too preoccupied with Tony's returning wisecracks to notice that Wilson had taken one of House's own tricks and turned it on him. When they were out of sight, he took both House's and Tony's drinking containers and had them put in a bag. He would use these for the testing that he was certain would prove his suspicions correct.

Now, as he stood in the hall, watching Cameron and Tony discussing the "message" from home, he needed only one more participant's sample for the DNA testing. And he wasn't quite sure how he was going to get Cameron's donation, but he'd figure it out and he would be able to get his third sample. After that, it would be only a matter of few days to get his answer. An answer he wasn't sure he really wanted. How could he ever face his best friend again if he didn't tell him. How could he face him, if he did?


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

House was also watching Tony and Cameron's conversation from his office. He was becoming more and more entangled in their web of what he was certain was half-truths. And although it was his deepest desire to get to the bottom of all this–oh hell, who was he kidding. His deepest desire almost took place hours earlier when he had her pants down to her knees or when she kneeled on the floor before that–they were his deepest desires! But it was a trap he was going to try to escape with the nearest gorgeous female that fell into range. He decided at that moment that he needed a diversion from the package in the adjoining room.

By three o'clock that afternoon he had found his distraction with a date sat up for later that evening. Similar enough to Cameron to attract him–yet as dissimilar in character and appearance as he could get. By five-thirty he stopped in at Wilson's office as the oncologist was signing forms in various folders he had stacked on his desk.

"You busy?" House limped into the room and took the seat across from Wilson.

"Need you ask?" He signed the last form, closed the folder and placed it on the pile of medical records he was evidently finished with. "What's up?"

"Hopefully me, later tonight."

"Really? Is Cameron making another midnight visit?"

"No!" He growled. "Not Cameron. I'm having a drink with someone from the clinic today."

"A nurse?!" Wilson's eyes grew large.

"No, not a nurse. She brought her boyfriend in as a patient."

"You're dating someone who already has an established relationship with someone else." Wilson leaned back in his chair. "Tell me, why are you intentionally going into a relationship that already has doom written all over it?"

"It's not a relationship. It's a. . .well, a drink. And if things go farther–it still isn't a relationship. I don't do relationships."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Wilson's disapproval could be heard in his voice. "Would you like to tell me why you're doing this? You said yourself, you almost had what you wanted last night–or this morning–whatever time you were interrupted with Cameron."

"Let's keep Cameron out of this." House shuffled in his chair.

"No, I don't think we should. Something scared you last night. Otherwise you wouldn't be taking flight like a bat out of hell this evening. What was it? Did she tell you that she loved you?"

"No," House grumped at him.

"Did you tell her that you loved her?"

"Hell no!"

"Then what was it? Something had to send you over the edge!"

"I don't know!" He barked at him. "I can't figure it out! All I know is I was quite prepared to let her sleep over at my house because she looked so damn tired, I didn't trust her to drive home–and I was completely exhausted, I couldn't trust myself to drive her."

"You invited her to sleep over?" Wilson restrained himself from bouncing in his seat. "What happened? Did she accept? Where did you sleep?" Disappointment again filled his eyes. "You didn't make her sleep on the sofa, did you?"

"No." House looked slightly insulted. "I slept on the sofa. I let her sleep in my bed."

"But you didn't stay there, right? You couldn't take it and went in and got romantic, right?"

"Wrong. She came out to let me know she couldn't sleep in her clothes."

"So she slept in the nude? I knew it!! That's when you tried to take advantage of her!" Wilson's eyes were shining with excitement as he smiled at his friend.

"I didn't try to do anything!" Again, House shifted in his chair. "At least, not until after I gave her an old Penn State football jersey I had in the back of my drawer. It was when she came out of the bathroom with only that thing hanging off of her, and her legs going on forever. I couldn't help it! It was like deja vu! Like it was the most familiar sight in the world to me–but I couldn't place it! And I swear to God, Wilson, I haven't been so "ready" in years! We went at it like our lives depended on it–but then that damn demon-seed called and she turned into an ice queen. All of this over a damn football jersey!"

"No, I think it was "all of that over "Cameron" in a football jersey." So, what do you mean, it was like deja vu?" This time it was Wilson's turn to shift in his chair. "Do you really think you saw her like that before?"

"No! When would I have ever seen her like that? Even during the few times I went to her apartment, she was at least in running shorts and tops."

"But what about before she started working here?"

"Never crossed paths with her."

"But didn't she say something about going to one of your lectures when she was in med school?"

"I don't think they make a habit of sitting in the audience wearing only football jerseys." House looked at Wilson like he was a little loose in the brain, then got to his feet and started for the door. "Anyway, I won't have to worry about that after tonight. This young thing looks quite athletic and after a few hours with her, it should have all this nonsense knocked out of me and I can start out fresh in the morning."

"I think you're making a big mistake."

"You would. You're strategy has always been marry them first, then go out and get the young things to take your mind off of your wife."

"Is that how you think of Cameron? As a potential wife? Anyway, I only cheated on my first wife, and maybe a little bit with the second, but I didn't cheat with my third."

"I think of Cameron as a rock tied around my neck that's been getting heavier and heavier. And tonight, a blonde goddess is going to cut the cord."

Wilson watched as House walked out his door, almost walking directly into Cameron who was conversing with Tony as they were heading toward the elevators. House's expression went from that of smugness as he looked at Wilson, to that of a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he almost walked into Cameron.

"Oh, House. Excuse me. Are you okay?" Cameron's concern received a grunt before House glanced back at Wilson, then tried to walk around the pair in the hall. "I needed to talk to you. House. House!"

"Not now. I'm going home."

"Well, it won't take long." Cameron side-stepped in front of him again.

"What?" He asked in exasperation.

"There's been a change in plans, and Tony has to stay with me longer than expected. The only way his school will allow this is if it will be considered an educational leave of absence."

"And this concerns me–how?"

"He'll–need to come to work with me–at least part of the time."

"Can't you take him to a museum or something?"

"I could, but there will be times he'll need to be here too. I promise he won't get in the way."

"Oh yeah, like he isn't an expert at "getting in the way" already!" House remarked sarcastically, bringing a shrug and a chuckle from the boy, and making Cameron's face heat up with embarrassment.

"House, I don't need your permission for this. I already called Cuddy about it and she said it was okay."

"Great. Then why are you asking me?"

"I wasn't asking. I was letting you know."

"Fine. You let me know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got someplace to go."

House walked down the hall to the elevator as Cameron and Tony remained outside Wilson's door, staring after him.

"Uh-huh," Wilson said to himself as he listened to the whole conversation from his desk. "This "blonde goddess" is going to need a hacksaw to get that rock off your neck, old friend, because this brunette not only has it tied around your neck, she has it chained and padlocked–and as much as you deny it–she's the one with the key!"


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Cameron!" Wilson called into the hallway from his desk. "Would you come in here a moment? I wanted to talk to you."

"Of course." Cameron entered the office with Tony. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to say hello to you and your brother again. We met down in the cafeteria earlier today."

"Yes, I heard. I wanted to thank you for buying him lunch." She smiled at him. "Can we return the favor some time next week?"

Wilson stood up and walked over to where she was standing. "Sure. Sounds great. But how about tonight? I could pick you both up around seven-thirty, then get a quick bite to eat that doesn't taste of hospital food."

"O-kay." Cameron looked over at Tony. "Do you want to go tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll go."

"Good, that'll give me time to go home and change clothes, then I'll be over to pick you up," he told her, then glanced from one to the other. "You don't mind if it's an informal restaurant, do you?"

"No, not at all. So, jeans and a t-shirt?" Cameron asked.

Wilson chuckled as looked at Tony's expression. It was clear that this was the apparel the boy was hoping for. "Jeans and t-shirt sound perfect."

Wilson, Cameron and Tony sat at a picnic table outside the old diner he had chosen to take them to. The neon lights were flashing already even though there was still enough daylight to see a good distance down the street. They each had paper dishes before them, but their preferences ranged from a grilled chicken caesar salad and diet soda for Cameron, a fish platter and coffee for Wilson and a double-cheeseburger with all the fixings along with onion rings and a Mountain Dew for Tony. Their meal was very pleasant, both males full of questions about the other. Tony wanted to know the reasons Wilson decided to go into oncology, and had he had any other career choices before he chose his current profession, and Wilson asked the boy about his school and favorite recreations, never being obvious in his investigation, asking only enough to keep Cameron and Tony in their comfort zone.

They could hear music coming from the bar that was across the restaurant's parking lot, about thirty feet away, but for most of their meal, they hardly noticed it. It's exterior was nothing spectacular, not inviting anyone's gaze to its front door unless someone was searching for it, and the trio at the picnic table had no interest in it, so certainly weren't looking at it. That is, until Wilson got up and took their trays back to the garbage and returned to see Cameron's face blanching with shock. Tony was looking in the same direction, but his face seemed to be infused with blood, temper showing plainly as they watched the couple exiting the bar's doorway, walk to a motorcycle and then lean into one another for a kiss. At first Wilson's expression went in much the same direction as Cameron's; of all the places he could have chosen to take this pair, it had to be right next door to where House took his date. But then his face reddened as well, but not with temper so much as embarrassment.

"Allison, I am so sorry," Wilson told her as he approached her at the table. "I had no idea he would be here."

Cameron smiled weakly at him, then got to her feet and started for Wilson's car. "Sorry? Sorry for what? You didn't do anything wrong. You gave us an enjoyable evening and nice meal. I should be thanking you, not expecting an apology from you. But if it's alright, I think Tony and I would like to go home now."

"Sure. Of course." Wilson hurried to the car and opened the door for her, then went to the driver's side as Tony got in behind his mother. Wilson turned to look at Cameron as she sat staring out of the windshield, avoiding the direction where House stood next to his motorcycle. When Wilson saw Cameron's stoic expression, he reached over and squeezed her hand. "I know this is hard for you. I really do understand. I'm just sorry that you had to see this while you were with me, and at a place I took you."

"Wilson," Cameron said with the slightest of catches in her voice. She really was grateful for his concern, and even felt a bit sorry for his discomfort in the situation. In fact, seeing House with the blonde woman made her feel as if her breath was being squeezed from her body. She was so tired of that man breaking her heart over and over again. The fact that Wilson felt bad for her discomfort, reaffirmed her affection she has had for the younger man these past three years. If the affection for him didn't quite qualify for that of an older brother, it certainly could come under the heading of a dear older cousin. She leaned over and kissed him very gently on his cheek before sitting back again and attaching her seatbelt. "You're very kind. But really, it's nothing to me. He is my boss. Nothing more."

"Allison," Wilson said doubtfully.

"Please, Wilson," she said quietly. "Can we just go. I'd rather not talk about this right now."

House couldn't believe it. He noticed them as soon as she stood up to go to the car. What the hell was she doing out with Wilson?

"Greg?" Honey's voice brought his attention back to her momentarily, but only long enough to glance at her before his eyes went back to Cameron as she got into Wilson's car. "Greg? Are you alright?"

"What the hell?" House took a step past Honey, on his way to the car until he saw Cameron lean over and kiss Wilson. He felt the blood drain from his face, reached around to his cycle and leaned against it.

"You know them," Honey stated the obvious as she watched the scene in the car, seeing only Wilson and Cameron in the front seat.

"Yeah. I know them." He gripped his cane tightly.

"Is that the "girlfriend" that you "sometimes" cheat on?"

House finally turned back to look at the blonde woman as Wilson pulled his car onto the street and drove off in the direction of Cameron's apartment. House knew rather quickly that this little tryst was a mistake. Each statement the girl had said to him in the bar showed that he was dealing with an empty shell–as far removed from Cameron's often-times "over-caring" attitude as one could get. When he actually took her outside and she reached up to kiss him it clinched the deal. There was nothing there, and all he could think about was saying goodnight to this girl and heading to Cameron's apartment.

But that was before he saw her with Wilson. He couldn't believe that his friend would actually try to step in and romance her. But then he did say he would be a fool not to want to have sex with her.

"No." House looked at the girl that was smiling back at him. "I don't know that I would cheat on that one."

"I sort of got that feeling." Honey reached up and this time kissed House on the cheek. "I had a nice time, Greg. But I think our evening is finished."

Honey turned and walked down the street, leaving House to watch her a moment, then get on his cycle and head home. It was going to be a long night.

The ride back to Cameron's was quiet, no one wanting to discuss the display they had seen, and once they arrived, Cameron thanked Wilson again, then simply got out of the car with Tony and returned to the apartment. Wilson drove home, feeling slightly guilty over using his dinner invitation as a means to collect the last samples he needed for his DNA testing. Only the fact that they had actually had an enjoyable evening up until they sited House, eased the guilt he felt at collecting her soda cup, napkin as well as some hair he had picked from the back of her t-shirt when no one was watching. He definitely would have his answer within the next few days–but still was very unsure what he was going to do with that information.

Tony remained quiet as he entered the apartment with Cameron and she let him make the choice of whether he wanted to talk or not. His blunt, "I'm going to bed," told her that he wanted to be alone and think things over and she knew when he was ready to talk to her about the night's events, she would be there to listen. But until then, she left him to the solitude of the living room that he sought, while she went to her bedroom and prepared for bed.

Cameron was awake long after she got into bed that night. She couldn't get the memory of House kissing that woman out of her mind. It came back to haunt her each time she closed her eyes, until finally the tears began to fall. It was well after midnight when sleep finally overcame her and allowed her the much-needed rest she was seeking.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

For the most part, Sunday morning was slept in by the two people who tossed and turned a good portion of the night. House was alone as he woke up and limped through his hallway to the bathroom and then on to the kitchen, grabbing a box of Wheat Thins and then returning to the sofa as he stared sightlessly at the television. He had to smile in spite of himself as he thought of Cameron's television and the way the lamp was sticking out of its screen the other night. Cripes, if he had done anything like that when he was a kid, he would have never heard the end of it. Then he probably would have been in for a swift kick in the ass! Granted, his mom would have been concerned for his safety, probably would have tried to replace the television before his dad found out about it, but that was "his" parents. He wondered if Cameron had replaced her TV yet, then thought about the kid that destroyed it. "What an idiot," he thought with half a smile.

As Cameron slowly climbed out of bed she moved to her bathroom. She glanced in her mirror and half gasped-half sobbed. Her eyes were red and swollen. This was the last thing she wanted her son to see today. He was dealing with his own feelings regarding his father. He didn't need to worry about her soft heart where House was concerned. She splashed cold water on her face, then went about her morning rituals and by the time she was showered and dressed, her eyes were in reasonably good condition. She moved into the hallway where she found Tony already dressed and staring out the window until he noticed her, then he turned and gave her a gentle smile.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" Cameron asked her son as she went into the kitchen. He followed her and watched as she got a bowl down from the cupboard and filled it with Special K, then went for some berries and milk from the refrigerator. "I can make you something. Anything here. Would you like some bacon? Eggs?"

"Mom," he said gently as she looked at him but went back to the refrigerator and looked inside at its contents.

"Oh, you're right. It's closer to lunch time, isn't it? Would you rather have something–lunchy?" She rambled.

"Mom, I'm okay." He moved up until he was standing next to her then closed the refrigerator door. "I already ate. I'm fine."

"Are you?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he reassured her.

"Then, how about a trip to the mall after I'm done eating? We can get a replacement for that television, and some clothes for you while you're here."

"Sure," he said to his mom, noticing the sadness that remained in her eyes and he thought of the man who put that sorrow there. "What an idiot," he thought as he went back into the living room and put on his sneakers.

By Monday morning, Cameron and Tony had a new television in the living room, and he had new clothes in the closet. They decided that it would be better if he wasn't thrown right into the middle of her work schedule, so he decided to stay home while she went to face House on her first day back. Cameron was a bit nervous about facing him. She knew it would be just any other day for House, as he wasn't aware that she had seen him. Not that he would actually care, she thought with a sigh as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She, on the other hand, was ready to face him with a bruised heart, so she stood a little straighter and prepared to start her day.

"Hey. How are you doing? Was the rest of your weekend more peaceful than your Saturday night?" Wilson entered the conference room. She looked up and gave him a smile of greeting.

"Yes, very peaceful, thank you." She moved closer to him. "Tony and I can now watch our favorite shows again. Heaven forbid he misses his Tuesday night shows."

"Oh?" Wilson asked. "Is that his night? What does he watch?"

"I don't know the name of it. Some kind of a medical drama. I've never seen it, but he watches it every week." She took her seat.

"So, you spent the whole day shopping for a TV?"

"That and we got some clothes for Tony. Then we walked over to the batting cages and I watched him bat for a while."

"So what did you do–for you?"

"For me?" She sighed. "I let Tony watch TV in the living room while I went into my bedroom and watched "You've Got Mail" and ate a quart of peanut butter cup ice cream."

"And here I thought you would tell me you lit candles and soothed away all your troubles with a warm soak in the tub."

She chuckled as she looked over at him, not noticing the man watching them in the adjoining room until he pushed the door open and entered, walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee. Cameron immediately tensed as soon as he returned with his drink and stood directly behind her chair, so close she could feel him brushing up against her hair.

"House." Wilson greeted him.

"Don't stop chatting on my account," House commented.

"We didn't. So don't flatter yourself," Wilson said lightly.

"Well, Cameron, when I warned Foreman to watch out, that you were working your way through all of us, I actually thought you'd move on from Chase to the darker side. You surprised me." He sipped his coffee as he looked down at the back of her head as she was going through a file.

She slowly turned in her seat, looking up at him with disgusted astonishment. "What?"

"House, come on. . ." Wilson started, but was stopped by the glare House sent his way.

"Who would have ever suspected she'd hop right over Foreman and jump for you Wilson? But, maybe it's those chocolate-brown eyes of yours."

"What are you talking about?" Cameron got to her feet and turned to look at him. "You have no right. . ."

"Better watch it there Jimmy, she likes it a little rough. Are you sure you can handle her?"

"You bastard!" Cameron had her coffee mug in her hand before she realized it, and House was wearing her coffee before he realized what hit him. She turned and walked out of the office with the file in hand.

"Jesus Christ!!" House put his mug down and quickly peeled off his hot t-shirt.

"House. You really are a son-of-a-bitch." Wilson said with utter disappointment in his friend as he turned and walked out of the office as well.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

To say who was more angry would be difficult at best. Cameron was fuming. It was bad enough that House flaunted his extracurricular activities in front of her, now she isn't even allowed to have a discussion with Wilson without him turning it into something sorted and obscene.

Wilson was angry because he felt that if House distrusted him enough to believe he would be pursuing Cameron, the woman Wilson "knew" House wanted to be with–even if House didn't know it–then their friendship wasn't as stable as he thought it was. Oh, who was he kidding? House didn't trust anyone. But it was still very uncalled for the way House insulted Cameron in front of him. She didn't deserve that.

And then there was House. He was angry with A) Wilson for taking Cameron out on what appeared to be a date, informal though it was, it was still a date; B) Cameron for actually going out with him; C) Cameron for kissing Wilson in his car; D) Cameron for throwing hot coffee on his chest–which still stung, thank you very much; and E) Tony–just because the kid got on his nerves!

Wilson spent his day with his appointments, but each break in his usual patient care, he was off to the lab. He gave them false names of the three samples and was assured he would have the samples by the next afternoon. And, if he promised to stop coming down and interrupting them every two or three hours, they might even have the information for him by mid-morning.

House spent his day in his office, alternating between playing his PSP, listening to his iPod, watching hospital soaps, and Googling Anthony and Allison Cameron–all to no avail. So, by the time Cuddy came into his office late that afternoon, she found him asleep in his chair.

"House." Her voice jerked him awake. He looked around the room in disorientation. The dream she awoke him from didn't include her. He was having very vivid images of Cameron's mouth, her lips, her tongue, as he kissed and pulled her close.

"What?" He looked at Cuddy's skin-tight skirt and wondered how she managed to walk in it or keep it from splitting down the back. The view she offered him as she leaned over his desk was nothing new. He was actually getting kind of used to it. "You lose something? Like maybe a barrier for those fellas before they fall out of their bins?"

Cuddy stood erect and stared at him. "Did you spend your entire day in here doing nothing?"

"No, I spent my day doing intensive research." He put his feet on the floor, hoping the excited state he felt in his sleep was not visible now that he was awake. He answered Cuddy's questioning, but his mind was on someone else, and the throbbing he felt pulsating through his veins made focusing on his boss a little difficult.

"Researching what? How to get to the fourth level on your PSP?"

"No, I'm on the ninth level." He moved to get up, stretching as he moved across his office until he was standing next to her. It was then that Cameron caught his eye, packing up her laptop in the conference room as she prepared to leave for the day. With all the blinds drawn in that room, his first sight of her was a dim one. "I don't see you interrogating her–she wasn't here all day."

"Stop your whining, House. Cameron was in clinic all day–being productive."

"Just earning brownie points, that's all." House glanced back at Cameron and saw that she had noticed the two of them. His hands automatically came to rest on Cuddy's waist. "So, what if I promise to do two extra hours of clinic duty each day for a week. Would that make up for today?"

"Well," Cuddy said slowly, eyeing him very suspiciously. This wasn't like House at all. What was he up to? "It's a beginning."

His arm slid around Cuddy's waist, pulling her closer as he noticed with each gesture, Cameron's own movements were turning more and more jerky as she slammed files into a folder, put her laptop into her case with too much effort, then flipped it closed with excess force. He leaned his head down toward Cuddy's. "Good, then mark me down for the third week in December."

"House, you're a jerk." Cuddy moved away from him and started out the door. "You'll be making this up starting tomorrow."

House only smirked before looking back at Cameron who was hanging her case over her shoulder. He managed to get to the adjoining door before she left. She stopped and looked at him, her eyes shooting flames. He entered the room, locking the door behind him, then walked to her, stopping only inches from her as he gazed down at her. "Those damn green eyes," he thought as he felt the unmistakable stirring in his loins.

"What's this? No hot coffee to throw this time?" He asked sarcastically. "But then maybe you're in too much of a hurry to get out of here and go in search of. . .Foreman this time?"

She held her head high with defiance. "And what if I am? I'm sure Foreman can show a date a good time–and still treat her like a lady when he's through. But then I can ask the same of you. Are you heading out to meet with your blonde bimbo? Or is it Cuddy this time?"

She tried to walk past him but he put his cane in her way, blocking her exit. He reached over and locked the door that lead to the hallway.

"I don't want Cuddy right now," he said slowly as he reached out and pulled her computer bag from her shoulder. "And I don't want a "blonde bimbo"' right now, either."

"What are you doing?" Uncertainty was written plainly across her face as she looked up at him, but those eyes of his, they always had the power to turn her into a wilting puddle.

"I'll tell you what I'm "not" doing, this time." He placed her bag on the table and started walking toward her as she slowly backed around to the other side of the table. "I'm not playing games this time like some teen that you can start and stop with the snap of your fingers."

"And you think this is just going to happen–just because you say so?" Her gaze moved over him, down over his muscular arms that she yearned to have around her again, down over his chest and abdomen that she ached to feel again, down to the blue jeans that showed her that he was not in a joking mood any longer. "Oh."

"Yeah." He reached out and put a hand on each of her hips and pulled her up against him. "Oh."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The half-smile he sent her way, combined with the brilliance of his majestic blue eyes, took all sense of reasoning from Cameron. She had wanted this for so long and she didn't have the fight in her to stop it now. Her hands were on his face in an instant, pulling his kiss down to meet her hungry mouth. At this point, she didn't care that he was going to walk away into someone else's arms and break her heart into a million tiny pieces. All that mattered was that he was pulling her into his arms right now; lifting her until her legs wrapped around him and she was pressed intimately against the bulge in his jeans. He was grinding against her until she thought she would go mad if they didn't get their clothes off and complete this union. She heard his cane drop to the floor as he turned with her and sat her on the end of the conference table, far enough back, inside the room to be out of view of the door. He gripped her firm buttocks, squeezed them as he moaned into her mouth, pulled her against him even tighter as he ground his desire against her. She slid her hands up under his t-shirt he had changed into that morning, spreading them over his abdomen, then up over the muscles of his chest, flicking his nipples until they were hard beneath her touch. His arousal answered her own as he yanked her vest down over her arms, buttons flying across the room in his haste. Her blouse was pulled out of her slacks, being pulled up over her head until they had to stop their kiss as he threw it aside. Her bra was unhooked so fast, that Cameron hardly realized it was off until she felt his hand cover her right breast, squeezing and fondling it until she threw her head back and moaned.

"Lie back," he growled as his kiss moved lower, across her throat, as he bent with her until she was lying on the end of the conference table with her legs still wrapped around his hips.

House pulled her bra off completely and tossed it aside as he dropped his head lower, his hand molding her breast as his lips and tongue moved across it, then began to suckle. She moved her hands to his hair, pulling him against her as she arched her back to give him greater access. He nipped and bit her, bringing little whimpers from her as she continued to move against his lower half, both going nearly mad with the need of one another.

"House, my pants," she breathed against the top of his head, watching as he started to stand erect, but went down for one more taste of her hardened nipple.

He stood up and looked at her, his hard gaze never wavering as he slid his hands down over her waist and around to the front of her. He watched her as he stroked her through her slacks, watched her writhe beneath the expertise of his hands until he thought he would explode himself. As he pulled her shoes off, Cameron unhooked her slacks and pulled down the zipper, lifting her hips as he pulled them off and dropped them onto the floor. She lay naked on the end of the table and he could see her blush spreading from her face clear down over her chest. By God, she was beautiful! She looked back up at him as he watched her and tried to close her legs and cover her breasts in embarrassed discomfort, but he pulled her hand away and pulled her legs open again.

"No, don't hide from me." His voice was so low she could almost feel it vibrate.

"Then, you take your's off too," she purred as she reached for his t-shirt, but he took a step back as he continued to take in every aspect of her beautiful body.

"No. Not yet." He leaned over her, leaning on his elbow as his hand went through the silkiness of her hair and he kissed her, his tongue going into her eager mouth as she pulled it inside with her own tongue, sucking, biting, roaming.

House stood between her legs, his right hand gliding down her waist, over her hip and then finally between them and touching her where her body was screaming for release. Their kiss became more frantic as his thumb moved on her, his mouth swallowing her groans of pleasure, and then her shriek as he plunged two fingers inside her. He moved his hand on her, in her, bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy until finally he couldn't take any more and he reached in his back pocket and pulled his wallet out. He opened his jeans and with a quickness that came from years of experience, he pulled the foil packet from the wallet he dropped on the table, opened it, and covered himself in the latex sheath. He pushed his pants down over his hips. When she reached down and touched him, he thought he was going to lose it right then, and when her fingers moved over his length, he stood erect and held his head back with a groan of his own. Not being able to take any more he took her wrist and pulled her hand away from him, then positioned himself and slowly pushed himself inside her, watching her face as she watched his. He held onto her hips, pulling her down to meet each of his long, slow thrusts, seeing how she squirmed on the table, her hands moving to the only thing she could touch in this position, his well muscled arms. He watched as her eyes would close and open with each wave of pleasure that passed through her. He watched as her tongue moistened her dry lips. He watched as her body clenched around his and she threw her head back, letting a scream escape until he reached for her and quickly covered her mouth with his hand. His mouth replaced his hand as he felt his own needs growing more and more urgent, his slow thrusts speeding until he was sure the table would break beneath them. Again and again, he slammed into her until the explosion took him higher than he had been in such a long time. He couldn't even remember having a climax as powerful as this and he had to smile in spite of himself as he looked down at her. He lay against her until his breathing came back to normal, then he slowly moved off of her and pulled himself from inside the warm tightness of her body.

"You–still have your clothes on," Cameron said timidly, not knowing what to expect from him now, and not knowing what else to say.

"I know," he told her, still holding a half a smile as he removed his condom, put it in a handful of tissues he had grabbed, then pulled his pants back up over his hips and closed them. He bent to pick up her pants and handed them to her, then started glancing around the room until he caught sight of her blouse where it landed on top of the coffee pot. He reached for his cane, then limped over to pick her blouse off the appliance. When he looked back at her, she was hurriedly putting on her pants and once again was covering her breasts with her arms. The sight of her blushing in front of him in such a half-clothed state, brought a smile back to him. God, she was adorable! He walked back to her and put his cane on the table again. As she reached for her blouse, he took her wrists instead and spread her arms wide, backing her up against the wall until he held her there with her hands pinned above her head. He bent lower until his mouth brushed hers, then went lower as he nuzzled her neck and throat. "Don't hide yourself from me."

"I–I won't." She felt her pulse starting to race again, her breathing starting to slow until she had to remind herself to actually inhale. He was working magic with only his mouth. And she had thought he had taken her as far as she was capable of going–farther than she had ever gone before. She let out a lazy laugh when her thoughts went to Chase and his incompetent attempts to make her climax. House was pushing her farther with his kisses and caresses than she would get even after watching Chase get dressed and go home. But she always knew it would be like this. Always felt it would be like this.

"Get dressed now." He kissed her mouth again as he put her blouse in her hands, then went around the room, picking up her shoes and her vest. "Stay here when you're done. I'll be right back."

She nodded her head and watched him go out through his office and head to the men's room, she supposed to get rid of his latex protection. By the time she had her blouse and shoes back on, he was returning to the room. She still didn't know what to expect as she looked up at him through eyes that resembled a frightened animal.

"Tonight, you're not going to Chase, Wilson, or Foreman." He grabbed her computer bag and put it on her shoulder, then took her hand as he started out of his office and down to the elevator. "Tonight, you're not even going home with that goblin you claim to be your brother. You're mine the rest of today."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Cameron didn't know how to respond to House. She didn't even know if she wanted to respond. He had just given her the best sex she had had in her life and she had thoughts of him being the only one in her lifetime that could take her so high. There was never anyone who had such an igniting chemistry with her. All it would take would be a look, and her senses tingled. Whenever she was lucky enough to be graced with one of his smiles, she was floating on clouds. But, whenever his sharp tongue would cut her with his jibes, he broke her spirit. But she wouldn't think about that now as she was riding on the back of House's motorcycle, her arms hugging his waist, and as the ride continued, her courage even allowed her to reach her hands up under his shirt, her fingers circling his nipples. She leaned her head against his back, taking pleasure in having his tall, strong body between her legs as they rode the powerful machine at speeds that could have had him pulled over if they had been spotted by the police. But still she felt safe, knowing he would get them to his apartment safely; his speed coming from the same needs she was experiencing herself. As they came to several stops at traffic lights, his hands would immediately come back to her legs, rubbing and caressing her thighs as her hands worked their magic under his shirt, and eventually worked their way down to his legs, fondling his muscular thighs and when she was feeling extra bold, and there was no other traffic, her hands would reach to the front of his pants. What usually was a half hour trip, seemed to fly by as they took erotic pleasure in the touch and feel of each other, finally pulling up on the street in front of his apartment building.

"What were you trying to do?" He asked as he got off the cycle and he followed her. "Get us killled?"

"You were touching too." She smiled at him as he wasted no time grabbing her hand and speeding into the building, pausing only to unlock the door, then head directly to his bedroom.

"If the phone rings, I don't care who's on the other end–no interruptions." He closed the bedroom door to block out any interference from the telephone. "Come here."

This time as he helped her undress, there was no hesitation in taking his own clothes off, and as they both stood, looking at one another's naked bodies, he moved up to her and started kissing her with an urgency that met her own. He moved them onto the bed, taking pleasure in the feel of one another's bodies lying full length against each other, a pleasure they had been denied at the hospital. This time, they took their time as their legs rubbed against the other's legs, arms and hands took pleasure in rubbing and caressing backs and torsos, squeezing and massaging buttocks, nibbling and kissing cheeks and throats and shoulders. He rolled her onto her back, letting his hand move down her body as he continued to kiss her. She parted her legs as he approached her intimate area, by now knowing where his touch was intending to go, and again, she nearly squealed when he pressed his fingers inside her. He moved his kiss down over her shoulder to her breast, making her moan with satisfaction as he continued to work with her, but once he dropped his head to her stomach, she gasped in understanding.

"House. . .House. . .," she moaned as he positioned himself between her legs, kissing her inner thighs and turning them to a point of trembling.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked quietly.

"No, God, no. . .but. . .,"

"Unless you want me to say grace, I think its safe to say you want me to proceed."

"Yes," she said within a throaty groan. Her hands went to his head, her fingers taking in the thickness of his hair. "Yes!"

This time when his tongue met her most sensitive area, she did scream. Why should she be surprised that he was an expert at this as well? He manipulated her with his tongue, while at the same time, using his hands to send her past the point of coherency. Her body moved without any direction, only functioning on pure instinct to arrive at the explosive ending that he was taking her to. He had her screaming, he had her moaning, he even had her panting like a dog, all the while he took his own pleasure in hearing her reactions and feeling her body trembling beneath him. When she finally wilted beneath his touch, and he moved up along her body until he pulled her into his arms with her head resting on his shoulder, he thought she had actually fallen asleep until she turned more fully in his arms and lightly traced her fingernails down over his chest.

"Feeling better?" House asked as he glanced down at her.

"Better than what?" She teased.

"I don't know–I guess better than before you had a taste of my talents."

"Is that what you call it? Your talents? Well, I do have a few talents of my own, ya know, and as for tasting all of yours. . ."

"Are you saying you're not finished with me today?"

"Not quite yet. But I'll let you rest a moment before I bombard you with a few tricks of my own."

"Don't wait on my account," he murmured as he turned her toward him and kissed her lips.

She continued the kiss, tasting herself on his lips and tongue, then slid herself down to his waist. As she took hold of him, she heard his moan of approval, and when she bent her head and ran her tongue over his length, his moan turned into something close to a hum. She was eager to satisfy him in this way, having fantasized about this moment for years. She could feel his fingers going through her hair as her mouth took him in, savoring the feel of his size within her, and she started to move on him. He allowed her to take this pleasure for some time before holding her head still and pulling her off of him.

"If you don't want it this way, you better stop now."

Cameron just smiled seductively at him and went back to her chore and within moments she had him bucking on the bed until his end came and he lay very spent, trying to allow his heart rate to return to normal. Cameron reached across him to a box of tissues on his bed-stand and promptly put them to her mouth. He watched her then pulled her back into his arms, laughing at her expression as she once again started to blush.

"I'm sorry," she said timidly. "I guess I'm what you called a spitter."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I–um–my husband used to act offended because I didn't. . ."

"Don't worry about it." He held her tighter and pulled the sheet over them. "It isn't important."

Cameron and House fell asleep in one another's arms, neither wanting to discuss their situation. It would be something they could put off, at least until after they awoke and could think straight again. It was clear to both of them that this was only a quick fix to their fractured and bruised relationship. But for now, they both were exhausted and it felt so right as they fell asleep together. It felt like they were where they should have been all along.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Cameron would never forget the feeling when she woke up later that evening to find House still sleeping with his head resting on her stomach. She gently moved her hand until her fingers were stroking his hair. She never wanted to forget this moment. But the moment lasted only a a few seconds before he started to stir and raised himself on elbow, rubbing his hand over his stubbled face as he reoriented himself to the situation, letting his gaze wander from her long shapely legs upward until it met those eyes of hers. They both watched one another, neither knowing exactly what to say. It was awkward, yet he felt himself beginning to swell as he lay back on his pillow. Cameron turned on her side to look at him as his gaze was now on the ceiling. She knew he was retreating from her again, and she wasn't quite ready to let go of this moment. She reached across him, grasping onto his hip and nudging him until he turned to face her.

"Listen, Cameron, I don't. . ." House started, and Cameron smiled sadly at him.

"No. Don't talk. Not now. We'll talk later."

House simply nodded as he pulled her on top of him until they lay full length against one another. Cameron lifted herself until she was kissing him, tasting him, savoring him. He responded to her immediately, pulling her legs apart as he kneaded her firm bottom, his swollen length riding up between them. This time together went much slower than the previous times, both seeming to know that this would be the last time before she would leave. They took great pleasure in simply sliding hands along each other, slowly memorizing the feel of each other and when the touching wasn't enough to satisfy him, he prepared himself then lifted her by the waist until he slowly slid inside of her. She smiled at him as he filled her, she already was aware that his size was immense, but each new encounter thrilled her to the point of near giddiness. He smiled back, understanding her response as he slowly gyrated inside of her, pulling out nearly all the way as his hands held her above him, then drawing her back down until his full length of him was buried inside. Each thrust brought either a groan or a sigh from Cameron and her vocalizations intensified his sensations. He continued to tease her with his slow but forceful strokes, until she pushed herself up until she was sitting on him with her knees on the mattress. She began lifting her and lowering herself onto him, but her thoughts returned to her pregnancy many years before and a simple little exercise they taught her in childbirth class known as the Kegel exercise, in which she contracts the walls of her vagina. Her first attempt brought his eyes up to hers, a pleasant surprise to say the least. Her second attempt brought a smile to him as he allowed her to take over their excursion.

"Go ahead, green eyes. You're in charge now."

"Are you willing to admit to that?" She breathed as she again practiced the Kegel.

"Lets just say I'm in no position to argue the point right now, but. . ." He moved his right hand from her waist and lowered it until his thumb brushed over the sensitized nub at the front of her, his stroking turning her breaths into gasps. ". . .if I should decide to change that, I don't think you'll mind."

"You can take charge any time you want to." She moaned as he quickly moved her past the teasing stage and her plunges and rises on top of him became more powerful. She took his hands from her waist, raising them to her breasts as they pumped against one another until she threw her head back and the squeezing sensation around his erection no longer had anything to do with Kegel exercises as she climaxed powerfully.

As she fell forward from exhaustion, he swiftly turned with her until he was on top and he thrust with such force that she thought she would split in two. His final thrust told her of his own powerful climactic end. They lay there, both waiting for their breathing to come to some sort of normalcy and their pulses to slow to their regular rate. Finally, House lifted his head and looked down at her. "Damn, you're worth every penny," ran through his mind. His eyes widened as he watched her, his mind clicking, re-running a vague memory from long ago, with another pair of green eyes, when he was thinking that very same thought. "Why in the hell couldn't he remember it." It was so close!

"House." She tried to get her breathing under control. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He moved off of her and grabbed his jeans, went to the bathroom and after a few moments came back with his pants on. He leaned against the door jam to his bedroom, watching as she pulled her panties over her hips and then reached for her blouse and put it on.

"Can you take me back to the hospital now?" She glanced over at him while she was pulling up her slacks.

"Yeah, sure," he said with a nod of his head, then went to his bureau and pulled out a fresh t-shirt that he put on. He finished by putting on his socks and sneakers as he sat on the edge of the bed. He reached for his bed stand drawer to get out a fresh supply of Vicodin and suddenly went numb. He saw more foil packets--reminding him very vividly that he hadn't used a condom this time. He closed his eyes in complete frustration. He never did that! He was always so careful! His only consolation was that he was certain that a woman of her age would be on the pill--or some kind of prevention. He sighed heavily, deciding that it was only once. How bad could it be?

He looked up to see her standing in the hallway, waiting for him with her computer bag slung over her shoulder. This isn't how he had anticipated this evening ending. Actually, he didn't stop to think about how it was going to end at all. It was just a chemical explosion that he responded to. The fact that he took it farther by bringing her home with him, he couldn't explain. Just as he couldn't explain the inexplicable feelings that this was a very, very familiar situation. The deja vu was so strong it was palpable–and yet he couldn't place these damn feelings. He picked up his cane and limped out through the hallway, waiting for her to pass through as he held the door open for her.

Their conversation remained very civil on the ride back to the hospital, both being extra careful not to offend the other. House was driving slower this time, and although Cameron held onto him very tightly, the fondling didn't happen this time. It was dark when he pulled into the hospital parking lot next to her car. He turned off the ignition and watched as she unlocked her door and put her laptop in the back seat. He didn't like the course this evening was taking. He didn't want her to feel that it had been meaningless to him, but he knew Cameron and he didn't want her picking out houses with white picket fences either. He reluctantly unhooked his cane and got off his cycle, walking over until he stood next to her. She made a chore out of looking through her keyes.

"You know I can't promise you anything," he told her as she continued to look at her keys.

"I know."

"I can't even tell you if. . ."

"House, don't say anything. Just let it go. I'd rather not hear anything, than hear you explaining to me why we can never work." She finally looked up at him as she opened her door.

"Okay. Then we'll leave it at that." He turned to go back to his cycle, but after a second thought, turned back to her and grabbed her chin, turning her toward him as he leaned in and kissed her once more.

Cameron kissed him back, but when he ended the kiss, she didn't object, simply opened her door and slid behind the steering wheel. She glanced in her rear view mirror as she pulled out onto the street, seeing House still standing there, watching her drive away. She reached for her tissues as the first of her tears spilled down her cheek.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Cameron and Tony walked into the Diagnostics conference room to find Foreman and Chase both already there. Chase was pouring coffee into his mug as his attention went immediately to Tony, eyeing him thoroughly before putting the coffee pot down and walking toward the boy with his hand extended.

"Hello. My name is Robert Chase. My friends call me Bob."

Tony looked at him through squinted eyes, then took his hand in a shake that seemed a little too enthusiastic to the boy. He looked at his mom who merely raised a brow before putting her laptop on the table and going for her lab coat.

"Chase, give him a chance to get into the room before you bombard him with your kangaroo charm." Foreman glanced over at the boy and nodded his greeting. "Anyone know where House is?"

"Right here." House entered the room through his office and looked first at Cameron who looked back at him as she put on her coat, then he moved his glance to Foreman. "Why, did you miss me already?"

"We've got a new case. Cuddy brought the files down this morning."

"Who made the coffee?" House asked as he watched Chase take a drink from his mug. "I hope it wasn't him. He can't make a decent pot of coffee to save his life."

"Uh–yeah. He made it." Foreman looked at House oddly before pulling a chair out to sit at the table. "What the hell is this?"

All eyes went to Foreman who reached down onto the chair he was about to sit on and picked up a pink bra that was hanging off its seat. At that moment Chase started choking on his coffee, bringing everyone's attention back to him. House, who was closest to the two other men simply reached out with his cane and whacked it on the middle of Chase's back, right between his shoulder blades. The pop on his back dislodged the item in Chase's throat and with a hawking sound, he spit a button out onto the table.

"What the hell is "that"?!" Chase asked hoarsely.

""That" is a button," House explained as he looked at the decorative silver object spinning on the tabletop, then with a flick of his wrist, reached over with the end of his cane and plucked the bra from Foreman's fingers. "And "that" is a bra."

Cameron's face was flaming as House looked at the bra hanging off the end of his cane, then pulled it off and shoved it into his inside jacket pocket. Tony's eyes were huge as they went from the button to the bra, then back to Cameron, recognition of the items in question clearly written across his face. Chase, who was holding his throat, looked at the bra and then up at Cameron also. And Foreman glanced down on the floor and found the other two buttons that had popped off of Cameron's vest the previous day. Everyone looked at House, expectantly.

"What?" He asked sarcastically. "No one ever see a bra and buttons before? I'll admit, seeing the wombat try to swallow one was a bit entertaining, though. Foreman, are you going to share that file? Or keep it to yourself all day?"

He moved over to where Foreman handed him the file and started reading through it. Tony, though, was still staring at his mother, the question of why his mom came home so late, with her bra hanging off a chair in the conference room and the buttons to her vest scattered around, was the foremost thing on his mind.

"Allison?" He asked.

Cameron looked over at him, but before she had a chance to answer, House spoke up again.

"You, rug-rat, can go to my office and play. I don't need you distracting Cameron right now. We have work to do." He looked up from his file at the boy. "Just don't touch any of my toys. Play with your own."

Wilson got his first message that Cuddy wanted him in her office "immediately" at about ten-thirty in the morning and he managed to avoid her until well after noon. He knew what she wanted to see him about. Tales of his DNA testing had managed to find its way to the boss. He was desperately hoping that his test results would be returned before he had to face her, but it wasn't to be.

"Yes? Come in." Wilson answered the knock and upon seeing Cuddy open his door he cringed. "Oh, its you."

"Yes. It's me." She came in and stood in front of his desk with a folder in her hand as she tapped her foot on the floor. "Have you "not" been getting your messages today, Dr. Wilson?"

"No–yes, I mean–what was the question?"

"I asked you to come to my office this morning! Where have you been?" She demanded.

"I take it you've heard something about DNA testing that I've had submitted." Wilson leaned back in his chair and watched her.

"I think it's quite unlikely that we have patients by the name of Bobby Darin, Sandra Dee and their child Moondoggie."

"Not very imaginative, huh?" Wilson smiled at her.

"Tell me something, could it be that you are the paternal donor in this trio of patients? Are you in trouble?"

"Good Lord, no. It isn't me."

"Then who is it and how do you expect us to cover the cost of this test, considering that your "patients" do not have any insurance listed?"

"I'll cover all costs, I promise. Just be patient."

"I want answers now, Wilson. And if I cannot have my answers now, I'll see to it that those results are destroyed–and I'll cover the cost without you ever knowing "your" answers."

Wilson leaned forward in his chair and looked up at her. "If–I–show you something. You've got to promise me not to do "anything" until we get the results."

Cuddy studied him closely, she had known James a long time, and this wasn't like him. Usually this was House's type of trick, not Wilson's. If he is doing something not quite by the book, there must be a good reason. She put her file on his desk and nodded her head. She wanted to see what was behind this caper.

Wilson got up from his desk and motioned for her to follow him. When he got to his door, he only opened it a few inches, just enough to see that there was no one in the hall. Once he saw it was clear, they moved closer to the Diagnostics Department. Wilson moved to the door of House's office.

"Look in there," Wilson advised Cuddy.

They both looked inside the dimly lit room at the person leaning back in the chair, his feet on the desk with ear buds hooking him into his iPod as he vigorously worked through the stages on his PSP.

"Yeah? So? There's nothing new about him hiding out in his office while he has his staff investigating his case."

"Um–look closer."

Cuddy did as suggested, moving closer to the glass door and getting a better look at Tony.

"Oh my God!"


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

House walked into his office around three o'clock that afternoon and found it empty. Evidently the sprout took off to parts unknown. All the better for House, he thought, as he sat at his desk and looked at the papers piled on it. He found it odd that Cameron hadn't taken care of these as she usually did. He looked at the first two pages without much interest, but the third page caught his eye simply because it was out of place. It appeared to be a photocopy of an old scholarship conference program. He used to speak at those during his first few years at Boston General. The money wasn't bad, and it got him out of the hospital, most times offering him mini-vacations, and opportunities to party to his heart's delight. He looked closer at the paper and read what he could. It appeared that pieces of the program were missing, but there was still a good portion that was readable.

. .SCHOLARSHIP CONTEST

. . .Hotel--Ocean City, Maryland

Saturday, June 6, 1992

.. .Guest Speaker: Dr. Gregory House

GRAND PRIZE $25,000 scholarship to. . .

He noticed that this was, indeed, one of the conferences he spoke at. He lifted the page to look at the back of it, wondering why someone would send this to him, but the back was blank. That was when he spotted the other photocopy underneath. It was a color photo and newspaper article congratulating the entrants of the scholarship contest for their successes. Again, the grand prize winner's name was missing, but the other entrants were listed. He looked closer at the picture, seeing the boy named Herman Wolf standing next to a complete knock-out in a turquoise colored gown. She was beautiful, and again, that old feeling of deja vu passed over him with a strength that brought sweat to his brow. He cannot imagine having let this girl pass by unnoticed if he had been a speaker there.

House reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a pair of glasses and turning on a lamp to see it better. With the added strength of his glasses, it took only a second to recognize the girl in the photo.

"Jesus Christ! It's Cameron!"

Cuddy paced the floor in front of Wilson's office. They were both anxiously awaiting the arrival of the lab data that he now held in his hand. Wilson sat behind his desk, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the woman.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? I mean–it's so unlikely–it's practically impossible that they met that long ago. I mean, she was only a child." Cuddy said nervously.

"Well, these results will certainly let us know one way or the other."

"And what if they're positive? What do we do? Do we tell House? Do we confront Cameron? Is it really our place to confront Cameron?"

"If you'd rather not be here when I open it, I'll understand." Wilson said gently.

"No. No," she said, wringing her hands as she moved to sit across the desk from Wilson. "I'd rather be a part of this. I can't see letting you do this by yourself. Go on."

Wilson reached for the manilla envelope marked confidential. His finger slid inside as he opened its seal. He took a deep breath, then pulled the sheet out and read the findings aloud.

"Dee, Sandra; Darin, Moondoggie; Darin, Bobby. On the basis of all systems tested, Darin, Bobby, cannot be excluded as he father of Darin, Moondoggie. Paternity Index equals 3202 to 1. Relative probability of paternity is 99.97%."

"Now what do we do? House has got a son." Cuddy sighed. "So, tell me that some how, some way, Cameron's parents adopted House's illegitimate child."

"I'm afraid not. Cameron is the mother."

House sat at his desk, waiting for Cameron to return. He wanted to know why she would make a copy of these things and then conceal them on his desk. If he had met her before, why did she hide it for three years, and then suddenly send him hints of it in such a clandestine manner. He was just about to get up and go in search of her when he saw Tony standing in his doorway, watching him as he knocked.

"You can come in as long as you don't plan on using the microwave," House told him.

"My sister was late getting home last night." Tony walked up to the edge of House's desk, placing his hands on its edge as he looked at the man. "Any ideas where she might have been?"

"Little boys shouldn't ask such questions about their big sisters." House leaned forward and met the boy's gaze. "Unless, of course their concern is for more than a "sister." Frankly, if I had a sister, I wouldn't give a damn where she was during the evenings."

"You're not very good at math, are ya, Einstein?" Tony leaned over the desk and glanced down at the papers House had been looking at prior to his entrance. "You've got all the information, big guy. Now try juggling the numbers."

House sat behind his desk, watching the boy leave and head for the elevator. He wondered what numbers he was supposed to be juggling, but knew that before the afternoon was through, he'd have his answers; answers that had been bothering him for over three years.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Cameron and Tony were in the conference room later that afternoon as Cuddy and Wilson approached the doorway. They were about to enter when House barged through the doorway from his office, all of his "little hints" in his hands as he tossed them down on the table in front of Cameron and son. Cameron turned white upon sight of the objects and her accusing eyes turned immediately to her son.

"Okay–I got your little math puzzle. So you really are her kid and she got knocked up while she was at this awards ceremony. But what the hell does it have to do with me?"

"It has "nothing" to do with you." Cameron hissed.

"Well, "he" evidently thinks I need to know that you were out screwing Joe Schmoe–or was it one of the judges? Is that how you won that scholarship?" He said to Cameron then turned back to Tony again. " But I still don't get what it has to do with me. Granted, she was only a kid–but how in the hell did you expect me to stop her from sleeping around when she was eighteen?"

"House," Wilson tried to interrupt when he entered the room.

"What's this? The white knight come to defend his lady fair? Maybe we ought to get the boy wonder from down under in here as well. I'm not sure about Foreman yet, maybe she had a go with him and he'd want to be here to protect her from the big, bad ogre with the cane." House's temper was on the rise. He felt an undeniable sense of envy when he had the proof he had been searching for right in front of him. The date of the conference, plus time of gestation on top of Tony's age would definitely bring them up to this time frame. Just why he felt the shredding of his soul at the thought of someone else impregnating Cameron, he couldn't explain, not even to himself–and it was tearing him apart. The fact that Wilson was standing there, prepared to interrupt his tirade, infuriated him. "So, tell me, Cameron, what does the fact that you were laying around in high school have to do with me? I can't help it if you gave it up to some stranger in a bar–or some official of the contest in a hotel room."

"House, that's enough. . ." Wilson's comment brought a fast jab to his mouth, so fast that he didn't even see it coming until Cuddy was kneeling next to him and offering him a tissue for his cut lip.

Cameron got to her feet slowly, clearly in shock, as her gaze went from Tony to Wilson and then back to House. She walked toward him in a trance-like state.

Tony spoke up with disgust. "You really are an asshole for being such a "genius!" What the hell do you think you have to do with her getting pregnant while she was in the same city as you, ya dumb fuck! You're my frickin' father."

House turned on the boy so fast he nearly knocked Cameron off her feet, but his attention quickly went back to Tony.

"Whoa–right there kid! Just because we were in the same city–doesn't make me your mom's sperm donor! Don't go blaming me! You're someone else's little bastard–not mine! You have to actually have sex to get someone pregnant, and we never. . ."

House never saw the slap coming. It echoed off the walls as it landed with such a force that it knocked him back two steps. Cameron was on him in an instant, her retaliation so unsuspected that she had another slap in before he could actually defend himself by stepping out of her reach.

All of a sudden she wasn't little diminutive Cameron any more. She almost seemed to tower over him as she showed a ferocity that he never knew existed in her.

"Don't you EVER call my son a bastard!" She growled at him, not noticing that Wilson was on his feet again with Cuddy helping to support him, and that by now Foreman and Chase were standing in the doorway watching the entire scene. She only had eyes for House and all the humiliation and anger she had been holding inside for nearly fifteen years was ready to burst through. "My son is a CAMERON! So you can stop trying to run from the truth! You stand there and accuse ME of being promiscuous as a teen. Of having sex with the officials so I could win that competition! I worked practically my whole senior year to win that competition! I would NEVER stoop so low as to try to win it by "doing the officials." You stand there so pompous–so arrogant. How could you ever think I would want my child to know that his father was nothing but a drunk–even in his early thirties? It's no wonder you can't remember that weekend! You were never sober! From the time I first met you on the beach and you "promised" to help me further my education, through the whole weekend when you'd come in so drunk you'd be bouncing off the walls in your room. But I was young–I was naive–so I thought the handsome young doctor in the next room was just being worldly, being debonair, until the night you came home so drunk you fell off your stool and shook the whole suite of rooms; loud enough to wake me in the next room and, stupid me--I had to come to your assistance. I can take fault in being young and unworldly–and even falling in love with the rising star, Dr. Gregory House, that night, but you can take the blame for being so far into yourself that you thought an eighteen-year-old virgin was a hooker! You can take the blame for using me all through the night while you were complimenting me, bolstering my self-esteem, telling me things that made me believe I was important to you, and then slithering out of the room before I awoke, leaving me five hundred dollars and a note telling me I was worth every penny! But as far as taking the "blame" for fathering Tony. . . Tony is the best part of you. Tony is everything you should have been. And there is no "blame" in that. You should be begging us to be allowed to take "credit" for being his father."

"Prove it." House looked back at her with as much venom as she was showing him. He could believe parts of what she was telling him. He probably did spend his entire time there drinking and entertaining himself with the "ladies of summer." And he vaguely remembered searching for a girl in a tiger print bikini, but that didn't make him this kid's father. His mind went back to the week earlier when she wore his Penn State football jersey and suddenly she wasn't wearing the blue and white of that college town, she was in black and yellow.

Cameron's teeth were clenched so tightly she was sure they were going to break. "I wore an orange and brown striped bikini at the beach. The night I came to help you off the floor I was wearing my Steelers football jersey."

Everyone in the room could see the memories of that weekend were beginning to connect in House's mind, but still he pushed on.

"That doesn't prove I'm that kid's father."

"House, for God's sake," Cuddy cut in suddenly. "Just look at him!"

"I don't need to prove anything to you." Cameron said to him, then turned angry eyes on her son. "And you! Why did you do this?"

"Gramma said it was time. She set everything up for me to come here last week. She said that he had the right to know he had a son."

"We're going home. Go to the car, now!" Cameron's face flamed red with temper and she started for the door. She glanced back toward House before she passed through the doorway where Chase and Foreman were still standing in complete awe. "Any more questions?"

"No! But you haven't proven I'm his father! You get that information and I might listen to what you have to say!"

Chase and Foreman split apart hastily, allowing her and Tony to pass through. The last thing Cameron heard as she moved toward the stairs was their semi-quiet, semi-astonished conversation.

"I told you he called her 'mom.'" Chase said.

"Chase, shut up." Foreman returned. "I think we better go to the lab for awhile."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

"House. . ." Cuddy started, not really knowing what to say to him at that moment, just wanting to break through the shell he had surrounded around himself.

House watched Cameron and Tony disappearing behind the stairwell door then flashed his gaze to Cuddy and Wilson who stood a few feet away from him. At that moment he didn't want to talk to anyone. His only concern was Cameron and that kid right now.

"Don't start." House turned to go back to his office but the envelope Wilson had been holding was thrown down on the table next to him. It's excessive force caught House's attention as it stopped within inches of him, his eyes catching the confidential sticker across it's front in block letters.

"You want your proof? There's your proof you evidently need so bad." Wilson's voice was bitter as he still held the tissue to his torn lip. "Although I'd say Cameron's tale was very convincing."

House glanced back at Wilson, furry in his eyes, then he turned to leave again, this time Cuddy reached out and timidly placed her hand on his arm, but after receiving an anger-filled glare, she pulled her hand away.

"House, please. Just look at it. It will help answer a lot of your questions."

House just stared at her a few seconds before he finally picked up the envelop and pulled the lab data out from within. He scanned the sheet of paper before moving his eyes back to Wilson.

"Am I to take it I'm Mack the Knife, Cameron is Gidget and the demon seed is the surfer dude."

"Perhaps you better learn a new phrase now that you know whose seed the boy actually came from." He patted his lip again, his brown eyes moving back to House's. "But then on second thought, maybe the phrase is entirely appropriate."

"How did you do this–and "why" did you do this?" House gestured toward the papers in his grasp. "What would make you do this?"

"House, come on," Cuddy coaxed. "Didn't you ever "look" at the boy? Didn't you ever "listen" to the boy?"

"So he's got dark hair and blue eyes. So does a good portion of the population in the world. How in the hell was I supposed to come up with the idea that the kid was mine? How could I have imagined that some kid that grew up in Illinois was even remotely connected with me? And if "I" couldn't even remember being with Cameron–what in the hell made you even consider it?"

"It isn't just the eyes and hair, Greg." Cuddy tried again. "It's in his gestures. It's in his voice, his physique, the shape of his face. God, it's in his complete attitude. Anyone who knows you well, could see it. I'm only amazed that Chase and Foreman didn't notice, but then Wilson said they haven't been around the boy that much. And I'm sure I wouldn't have noticed it this soon if James hadn't pointed it out."

"Then how?" Again his focus was on Wilson. "That day in the cafeteria? You got my and the boy's samples? What about Cameron?"

"The night at the diner. The night we saw you with "your friend."

"And the night I saw you two in the front seat of your car."

This remark turned Cuddy's concerned eyes to Wilson. "What were you doing in the front seat of your car, James?"

"Yeah, go ahead, "James." Tell her what you were doing."

"I was comforting a friend." Wilson seemed to be trying to reassure Cuddy. "She had just seen "him" in a lip-lock with some blonde and she was upset. You would have done the same thing."

"Not very likely, unless you know something about those two that I don't." House gruffed.

"Tony was in the car the whole time! Even if I wanted to do anything with Cameron, do you seriously think I'd be making out with her in front of what I suspected was her son? Or in front of anyone for that matter!" He ignored House's sarcasm and turned back to Cuddy. "Lisa, she was heartbroken after she saw "his" performance out in front of everyone on the sidewalk. All it was, was a simple kiss on the cheek between friends. Nothing more. And anyway, she kissed me, I didn't kiss her."

House noticed how Cuddy's expression softened as she looked back at Wilson again. He looked down at the papers in his hand, grabbed the papers Tony had left for him earlier, then turned and finally went into the solitude of his office. His mind was spinning like a tornado and yet it seemed to stand still and become totally numb at the same time. He couldn't understand how he had been so blind–and yet, he was aware they had some connection to one another almost the whole time. Immediately, from the day House hired Cameron, he knew there was something there, but he couldn't identify with it. His drunken abyss he had been in during his younger years hadn't allowed him to see the obvious. It kept her identity hidden; but it couldn't hide the chemistry they had shared from day one of her employment at PPTH; the sparks that flew every time their eyes met; the heat that seared them every time their fingers touched; the atomic explosions when they made love.

He couldn't think about that right now. He "wouldn't" think about that right now. He needed air. He needed to breathe. He grabbed his jacket and tucked the small stack of papers inside and headed for the nearest exit. Once outside he got on his motorcycle and proceeded to put as much speed and distance as he could get between himself and that hospital. He didn't want any reminders of the events of today. He just needed to be free.

He watched as the city disappeared behind him, taking rural roads through the lush green countryside and continuing until his gas tank was nearly empty. He stopped to fill it up, then got back on and rode even farther, the faster, the better. He didn't turn around until nearly midnight when his mind became aware enough to remind him of the ache in his leg that he battled with.

"Hmm," he said to himself as he shook out two Vicodin and downed them with a coffee from the gas station/convenience store he was presently at. "Maybe that's what I need to take care of this leg pain–to find out every day that I have a fourteen-year-old kid."

After finishing his coffee, he got back on his cycle and returned to the city, by now several hundred miles to the northeast. He was exhausted, by the time he got home, having just enough energy to drag himself into his bed and collapse an hour or so before the sun began to rise over the hospital.

He would deal with things tomorrow–or the next day–or the next. He only knew that he didn't want to deal with it right now. He began to fall into a spiraling sleep, a dream that had him in her arms again as he allowed her to soothe him, his head resting on her stomach as he hugged her to him and she ran her fingers through his hair. In his dreams, he felt safe and whole again. He felt complete. When he woke from his safe haven, he jerked awake in a sweat. A fear stole through him like he had never felt before. A total and complete sensation of loss.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

House didn't show up for work for two days. Instead, he turned to meals of Vicodin with a fresh bottle of scotch to wash them down. He read and re-read the lab work that Wilson had provided for him. He studied the photograph of Cameron when she was eighteen, slowly letting the memory seep in of a glorious night at the beach when he was unsure if he would find the girl in the tiger bikini again, then catching her in all her finery and then in a simple football jersey. Any way he looked at her that fateful weekend, she turned his blood on fire. He wondered at his state of mind that refused to look at her as anything other than a prostitute. He could only guess that in his drunken state, he decided it would be the only rational way for him to be with her–she was too pristine for him to corrupt otherwise.

It was as he lay on the sofa during his third day home from work that the knocking began. He had no intension of answering it, and since he brought his extra key in he didn't worry about anyone actually coming in to bother him. Eventually the knocking stopped and he heard the footsteps walk away, so he turned over and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep.

The intense feeling that he was being observed opened his eyes to see the teenage boy squatting directly in front of him, humor in his eyes as he watched House. House stared at him a long moment, wondering if the kid was actually there–or if he was dreaming. Finally Tony sat back on his heels and started to chuckle.

"Look at you! Just what the hell she ever saw in you is beyond me. You're nothing but an old dinosaur, too grumpy and too full of yourself to ever enjoy anything. Tell me something, old man, is there anything that you enjoy?"

"Yeah–your mother when she squeals," House grumbled as he moved to sit up. He rubbed his hand over his face to wipe the sleep away, then looked back at the boy, expecting him to be insulted, but Tony merely smiled back at him.

"Is that supposed to shock me? Ooh–wow–dear old dad likes having sex with my mom–oh my!" Tony exaggerated a shiver and started chuckling at his father again.

"How in the hell did you get in here, anyway?"

"Side window was open. The screen wasn't clicked all the way in place. Just stuck my fingers in and held the clasps as I pushed it up. The rest was a piece of cake. Oh, by the way, I like your Zeppelin collection. Can I borrow it?"

"Why are you here?" House pushed himself up from the sofa and limped toward the bathroom. "Did you come here just to annoy me?"

Tony waited in the hallway as his father relieved himself. "Yeah, pretty much. And to see what all the fuss is about. I mean, everyone is so worried about the infamous Dr. House. He doesn't show up to work for three days and the hospital falls apart."

"Is it?" House asked as he re-entered the living room and went for the bottle of scotch.

"Is it, what?" Tony asked.

"Falling apart–the hospital. Is it falling apart?" He poured the scotch and took a big gulp.

"Nah, Wilson and Cuddy are handling your patient. Chase and Foreman are laying odds that you're either dead in your apartment or left the state. That's sort of why I came over–to see if you were dead in here. I wanted to see if I was in for a big inheritance."

"Well, you can go back home now. I'm not dead, and I'm still in New Jersey."

"You're not dead, yet. Tell me, does your father have a drinking problem?"

"No, and neither do I. At the moment I seem to have an offspring problem." He finished the amber liquid from his glass, then looked back at Tony. "What are you doing here? Really doing here? And don't give me any crap about checking up on me. What did you expect when you came over? That I'd open my arms and accept you as the long lost son I never knew I had but always wanted? Sorry kid, it isn't going to happen. Your mom was right when she never bothered to let me know the little old stork was on the way. I didn't want a kid then. I don't want a kid now. So you can take yourself and your wisecracking ass back to Indiana or Iowa or wherever in the hell you're from and tell Grams and Gramps that you're there to stay."

"What the hell does she see in you?" Tony asked quietly, his humor fading quickly.

"She likes my big. . ."

"Shut up!"

This time House didn't get a chance to finish his obscenity. Tony's fist hit his face, sending him back a few steps. House looked back at the teen and gave him his coldest smile.

"Get out of here."

The police arrived at House's apartment at around two-thirty that afternoon. He was sure it was the kid coming back, and he was going to send him on his way again, not wanting any connection with this boy. The fact was that he knew what he was in store for. He had already lost Cameron due to this whole fiasco with the kid. He wasn't going to let the boy get close to him, just so his mother can rip him away again. The fact that he never knew about his son was understandable, once he actually had time to think about it. At thirty-three he wasn't ready to be anyone's father. His life was his own, and he didn't want to share it with anyone, and would have condemned anyone who tried to interfere. And now at nearly forty-eight he was too old to change his ways. He didn't want to ruin this kid's life because he knew nothing of fathering. The kid was better off being raised by his grandfather. At least there his life would be stable.

So when he went to the door, he was all set to blast the kid with more insults and curses. Instead, he saw two police officers standing outside his door.

"Sir, are you Gregory House?"

"Yeah." House rolled his eyes, that was all he needed, another run-in with the law. "What's the problem?"

"Sir, there's been an accident involving your motorcycle."

"My cycle?" He turned and looked at the end table where he had his keys. They were gone. House felt a chill run down his spine. The kid took his keys and then took off on his motorcycle.

"Yes sir. About three miles from here. The motorcycle wasn't able to be driven. It's already been towed to a local garage."

House was limping back to get his extra set of car keys that were hanging on a hook in the kitchen. "Was there anyone else involved?"

"No Dr. House. Only the boy driving it."

"And where is he?"

"An ambulance is taking him to PPTH."

House stopped and looked at the officer. "An ambulance? How bad is he?"

"He was thrown quite a distance after he ran into the divider. I can only tell you that he's unconscious, until we contact his nearest relative."

"You're looking at him. I'm his father."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The first look at Tony Cameron seemed to squeeze all the air from his father's lungs. Spying him through the curtains that were drawn around him, his first impression was that of a large person, probably close to six feet if not over, with the top half of his body smeared with blood. The ER personnel had managed to get the worst of the external bleeding under control, their concerns now were with any damage that was done internally.

As the staff saw House standing in the cubicle, those who weren't directly involved in his care at the moment moved to the side to allow him access to the boy. Those who were not aware of his relationship with the boy simply moved out of either fear or respect for him as a doctor. And there were those who didn't know him but saw the great resemblance and assumed he was the boy's father.

House moved up along the side of him until he stood near his chest, his drunken haze from earlier that day quickly fading to a soberness that left him cold. He looked at Tony from head to toe, taking in the splinted and wrapped right leg, the bruised arms and abdomen, the gauze-covered throat, the bruised and blood-spattered face and the already blood-soaked bandage around his head and forehead.

Hesitantly, House's fingers moved to the boy, checking the strength of his pulse, about to go to his face to look for further injuries, until the head ER physician stopped him.

"Dr. House, what are you doing ? You're in our way here. Unless you have something to do with this case, I suggest you leave."

"He's my son." House managed to get out before he noticed Tony's eyelids blink twice then open as he stared at his father. The sight of eyes with their whites hemorrhaged put an emptiness and fear in House's heart that he was unaccustomed to. "Hey kid, if you wanted to ride my cycle–I could have given you lessons first."

House's attempt at a joke brought only a glimpse of a smile to the boy before it quickly faded to be replaced with fear. He tried to raise his hand but whimpered with pain. House looked at the swollen extremity, noting that it was more than likely broken. He reached down and covered the boy's hand with his own and felt Tony's attempt to curl his fingers around his father's.

"H-help me." Tony's voice was barely there, a hoarse rasp that House saw and felt more than heard. He now understood the reason for the gauze on the throat. He had damaged his larynx. The boy coughed, spitting up some blood. "F-fix it."

House looked down at him and nodded his head once, then watched as the boy's eyes rolled back and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Cameron was studying a specimen under the microscope when she felt House's presence approaching. She wasn't ready to face his sarcasm and tried to ignore him as he stood on the other side of the window, watching her. Instead of knocking to catch her attention, he simply reached out and touched the glass with his fingertips. This simplicity caught her attention immediately as she looked at him to see what was wrong. His expression as he looked in at her, further convinced her that something was out of the norm. She turned in her seat as he came into the room with her, stopping when only a foot separated them. She remained quiet simply because she didn't know what to expect.

"Allison," House began, noting how the use of her first name put instantaneous suspicion in her eyes. "There's been an accident with Tony. He was on the motorcycle and ran into a construction divider."

Cameron nodded as she took in the information. She was well aware of the dangers of riding a motorcycle. She had seen enough crash victims in her internship through the ER several years before. She started walking in the direction of the emergency room. "Were you with him? How fast were you going? Did he break anything?"

House put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her. "He isn't in the emergency room anymore. He's in surgery. He ruptured his spleen, they're taking it out. They're checking to see what other damage he might have done to his organs."

"What the hell did you do?! Why aren't you hurt at all?"

"He wasn't with me."

"Then how do you know? Why didn't they contact me?"

"He didn't have any identification on him when they found him. And I know, because he stole my bike when he came to see me today."

"He came to see you? Why?"

House didn't want to discuss the fact that he sent the boy away in the coldest way he could imagine. "I don't know. He just came to see if I was okay, I guess."

"And he "stole" your motorcycle?" Cameron's eyes were beginning to show her stress. "He doesn't steal things."

"Cameron, don't concern yourself over whether your son is a thief or not. Right now, we'll just go and wait for him to come out of surgery. I can fill you in on what I know, but I want to get you into the waiting room first."

This only made Cameron stop dead in her tracks as she looked up at him. "What else is wrong with him?"

House knew he would get her no further until he filled her in. "His right tib-fib have compound fractures. His right scapula was dislocated and he's got a spiral fracture of his right humerus. He lost some teeth. He's got a laceration through the hairline and he damaged his larynx. Uh–at this point they're not sure if he's going to regain his speech."

"Um." Cameron's eyes were turning glassy. "Um. Did you see him?"

"Yes. I signed the consent form for the surgery."

"You signed the consent? How could "you" sign his consent?" She stared at him with questioning frustration.

"I'm his father," he said simply, then took her arm and started toward the elevator so they could get to the Surgery Suite and the waiting room.

"But I'm his mother! I should have been there for him! He needed me and I wasn't there for him!" She told him as they stood inside the elevator.

"He "needed"' a surgeon. That's who he needed," he scolded her, then when he saw the first tear spill over her lid as she kept her face pointed toward the doors, he sighed heavily in frustration. He is definitely going to have to work on this "mother-father-child" connection. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm sorry. You're right. He needed you there too. But if it helps any, I got to talk to him briefly."

"But I thought they didn't know if he could speak."

"It was raspy, and I could hear him, but I understood him." The elevator doors opened and he walked with her into a waiting room. Once inside, House pulled her down onto the sofa so that she was sitting next to him. "Don't worry–he'll be okay. He's very strong."

"How do you know that?" She sniffed.

"We're his parents, aren't we? How could he not be?"


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Throughout the following hours, Cameron and House had an assortment of their colleagues in the waiting room. Chase and Foreman would come in with food and coffee, and offered to go to their homes and bring back a change of clothes for them. Cuddy and Wilson stopped in frequently, filling them in on any news they could collect on their excursions from the operating room's observation deck, and often times they would just sit with them, listening to them if they offered any conversation, which was rare; or talk amongst themselves just to cover the silent spells that seemed to go on forever at times.

By midnight, Wilson sat on the end of a couch, dozing with Cuddy's head lying on his lap as she slept with her feet up on the other end of the sofa. House was pacing the length of the room as Cameron sat in a chair with her head in her hands. When the surgeon entered the room House stopped where he stood and Cameron jumped to her feet. They were informed that surgery went well, they removed the spleen and had a look at the other organs, which seemed okay. He had his tibia-fibula fractures casted, and his shoulder was put back in place and placed in a sling, all without surgical intervention on those areas. He had forty stitches put in his scalp, and temporary caps on his broken teeth to prevent infection and exposed nerves. As far as his larynx, it was extremely swollen and they needed time to see if the perforation was repaired sufficiently and he could regain his speech. But the most important fact was that he had survived.

House smiled at the surgeon, his first authentic smile in a long time, then turned his attention to Cameron who was finally letting the effects of the day seep in. She turned her back to him as her hands went to her face and she began to weep. The first time she allowed herself a heart-felt sob in such a very long time. Wilson and Cuddy, who awoke when the surgeon was speaking to House and Cameron got to their feet and approached her as House stood a few feet from her, watching her awkwardly. Wilson looked over at House and gave him a look of total frustration then nodded toward Cameron, indicating that he should go to her and comfort her. With a look of irritation returned to his friend, House went over and turned Cameron in his arms, allowing her to sob to her heart's content against his chest. Cuddy went to them and placed her hand on House's arm, gently squeezing it as she gave him a reassuring smile, then started for the door with Wilson. House moved with Cameron until they were seated on the sofa and he leaned back, pulling her up onto his lap as she let her legs flow over the other end of the cushions. He murmured words of comfort as he rubbed her back until she fell into a long overdue sleep. Midway through the night, House stretched Cameron on the sofa, then went to its twin along the opposite wall, stretching himself out in hopes of getting some rest.

By the next morning Cameron and House got their first look at their son as he came out of recovery. Both were prepared for the worse, but they found rather quickly that when it's your own child that's beaten and bruised, swollen and stitched, the sight can be devastating. Their interactions with one another turned back toward distance again, now that the immediate crisis was over. House even would return to his office occasionally and allowed Cameron to stand as sentinel over the boy.

House's guilt was becoming overwhelming. He had spent three days considering what kind of man would seduce an eighteen-year-old virgin, and then even after taking her innocense, still insist that she was nothing but a prostitute. No wonder she never let him know she was carrying his child. What he couldn't understand was why she came to work for him, then after three years, still refused to inform him of the facts. But after his scene with Tony the day before, and the way he shoved the boy away, he came to the realization that Cameron had no choice but to keep their child hidden. She, too, was pushed back every opportunity House had to do so. His self-preservation was destroying everyone who cared for him. And this time it was his only son that almost died because of it.

Even now, when she should be alienating him and demanding he exit her life, she allowed him to participate in the decisions concerning Tony's care. She was willing to forgive him, but did he deserve forgiveness. On his sojourns to his office he couldn't get the vision of his son lying bleeding and broken on that hospital gurney, or the sight of his son hurt and angry and throwing a punch at him. House cursed himself for causing all of this. So, when people wondered why, now that Tony was about to wake up at any time, he spent nearly half of his time away from the boy, he could only respond by saying, "It's easier for everyone this way."

"House, you okay?" Wilson entered House's office and moved to the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

"Yeah, I'm just peachy." House sat in his chair, twirling his cane slowly as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, dumb question, huh?"

"Well, let's turn that question on you." House looked at his friend. "How are you today? Or should I say, how's your mouth since I decided I needed to split your lip four days ago?"

"It's–healing. Are you?"

"I don't know what "I am." I know I'm a "father" now. I know I forced "my son" to steal my motorcycle and run away from me and straight into a construction divider. I know I knocked up an innocent kid fifteen years ago and screwed up not only her life–but the product of that weekend as well."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to see that the kid gets back on his feet. After that, he'll probably run back to Illinois and I can't blame him. I doubt his "gramps" ever got him pissed off like this."

"And if he does, will you try to continue a relationship with him?"

"I guess I'm responsible for his support now, I suppose I'll have to set some kind of funding for him."

"I don't think they're interested in your money. They didn't go through all of this just to get a few bucks." Wilson sat forward in his seat. "And what about Cameron? She's been through a lot these past few days. How are you going to make things right with her?"

"Who says things "can" be made right?"

"House, don't you think she's been through enough?"

"What do you want me to do?! I can't give her something that I don't have!"

"Are you saying you're incapable of giving her a relationship? Come on, House, I'm tired of hearing about how Stacy ruined you for other women."

"Who says it was Stacy? I think I was cursed about fifteen years ago when I took some girl's virginity and then left her in the most humiliating way possible. Who says you don't get payback?"


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Over the next week Cameron spent most of her time in her son's hospital room. She was the one to tell him he shouldn't try to speak yet. She was the one to tell him that he had had abdominal surgery and that two of his extremities were fractured and/or dislocated. She was the one who held his hand as he slept, and she was the one that told him not to worry, everything would be alright.

House, on the other hand, would stop in three or four times a day to check on his son's recuperation, have a short succinct discussion with Cameron on the boy's condition, then return to his office during the day, and go home at night. He kept his phone and beeper on his night stand while he slept, if you could actually call it sleeping. His evenings were spent tossing from one end of the bed to the other, feeling the incredible need to have Cameron's abdomen beneath his head as he held onto her for the security he longed for. If it wasn't the sense of loss at not having Cameron right there in the bed with him, it was the sense of dread that when Tony came back to them, his first words would be a declaration of complete and total hatred toward his father.

Cameron would watch House come into their son's room first thing in the morning, most times looking completely exhausted, and she wondered what he was doing to occupy his nights. He never asked how she was, his only concern was the recuperation of Tony and she would have been fine with that, if she hadn't suspected that he was still furious because she kept the boy hidden from him for nearly fifteen years. It wasn't that she was indulging herself in self-pity due to her and House's dysfunctional relationship; her priority was Tony, but during his times of rest, she was left to deal with her emotions completely alone. That was when it would have been nice to have a shoulder to cry on or a strong hand to hold onto.

"How was his night?" House asked Cameron as he walked into the glass cubicle on Tony's seventh day there.

"He was fine. He only woke up once for some meds for the pain. I think he'll be waking up soon again. He's been fidgeting some."

"Then I guess I should head back to the office and check on things." House started out of the room.

"Chase and Foreman were down through the night last night. I'm sure they have things under control."

"I'm sure they do," House said with sarcasm. "But as far as I know, I'm still the head of the department and can check in on the subordinates."

"I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt to. . . Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter anyway," she said with frustration.

House looked at the boy who was still sleeping. "I'll be up in my office."

"Fine."

Over the next two weeks Tony was moved from the hospital to Cameron's apartment where a hospital bed was set up in her living room. Considering the fact that both his parents were doctors, the offer of skilled nursing coming to his home was declined, but for the sake of Tony's modesty an aide was accepted so he didn't have to endure his mother giving him a sponge bath. He also had a physical therapist coming every day to begin work on his shoulder and arm. Cameron was still on medical leave of absence as she continued to take care of the boy, and now that they were home, House's visits were limited to once a day, after work. He usually would get there just as Tony was being transferred from his bed to a chair, or back again. The boy still wasn't talking, but would listen to House as he checked his wounds and asked if he was having pain anywhere. Cameron always had this covered, but never attempted to stop his examinations. When Tony wrote a note with his nearly illegible writing, asking why she never told House that she had done the same examinations earlier in the day, she told him that it never hurt to have a more experienced doctor check him , and it was something that needed to be done several times a day anyway, so why not let him do it.

After another week at home, House came to help transport the boy from Cameron's apartment to the hospital for his followup appointments. Tony was advised to put no weight on his bad shoulder and arm for another few weeks, not only due to his injuries to his upper extremity, but they didn't want him putting stress on his abdominal injury, as well. So he would still only be allowed to use crutches to get him to and from the vehicles taking him to the hospital and to and from the bathroom. Other than that he was still pretty much bedridden with every two hour transfers to his chair while he was awake.

His next appointment was ENT, and after their testing he was informed that he could once again try to use his voice. With both parents in the room with him, Tony looked from his mother to his father.

With a very dry, raspy voice, he managed, "Old goat."

Cameron suddenly started laughing and crying at the same time, her hands covering her mouth as she looked at Tony.

House, simply smiled and dropped his head in complete relief, looking down at the floor before looking back at Tony. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. "I guess that's a lot better than what you "could" have called me."

House drove the trio back to Cameron's apartment. He had had a month to think about things, things he had tried hiding from before Tony's accident and immediately after. He had an opportunity to look at his life and sort through what was important to him, and he more than appreciated the space that Cameron provided for him. He could see the parts of himself that had changed since the accident, and what parts would never change. He also spent a lot of time thinking about his time with Cameron, and he remembered every detail of their lovemaking. It weighed heavily on his mind of late. All the possibilities–all the missed possibilities. He thought of them all. He missed her–he missed being with her. But still, he held back and didn't approach her. She had reason to be furious with him--if she wanted a relationship, he would allow her to initiate it.

Cameron rode home from the hospital in silence. She sat in the back seat, allowing Tony the added room of the front passenger's side that was needed for the cast on his leg. Her eyes were often drawn to House as he drove the car and on occasion, she would catch him watching her in the rear-view mirror. He was looking extraordinarily handsome these past few days, effecting her in a way that was even more troublesome than before her son came to town. Something was going on within her, and she wasn't quite sure what it could be; the stress of the past few weeks since Tony's accident; the fact that she hasn't been intimate with anyone for some time–since her explosive evening with House; or the fact that ultimately, she had fallen more and more in love with this man every time she saw him interacting with their son. Whatever the cause, she wasn't certain, but at this point, she could devour him and not think twice about it.

When they got Tony back to his bed in Cameron's apartment, he was quite tired, so Cameron simply handed him the remote control to the television and let him settle in for the night as she took his one sneaker off, then kicked off her own sandals.

"Are you sure you don't want dinner?" Cameron pushed Tony's hair back on his forehead.

"Throat's sore," he managed to get out. "Cold–yogurt or ice cream?"

"Sure. I'll get it for you." Cameron returned to the kitchen. All of a sudden she didn't know if it was excessive bravery–or excessive foolishness, but thoughts–very explicit thoughts–started to formulate in her mind. "House, could you come out here please?"

She heard him approach as she turned off the timer on her oven that she had set before they left for the hospital. Suddenly she didn't care what had been occupying his nights that brought him to her house each day looking overly tired. She knew she wanted–no needed House as she had never needed another man in her life. As he got to the island counter, only a foot behind her, she opened the oven and bent over to pull out a pan of lasagna. Her bend was low–and deliberate and when she heard his louder than normal intake of breath, she smiled to herself. She was glad her choice of clothes for that day had been a tank top and very short cut-off denims.

"Uhh–did you ask me a question?" House asked as he watched her turn around and place the pan of lasagna on the counter next to him.

"I was going to ask if you'd like to eat here." The question had the effect on him that she was seeking as he swallowed with a little difficulty, then after a moment's hesitation raised a brow and smiled at her.

"Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me."

Cameron smiled up at him as she turned to the refrigerator and grabbed a small container of yogurt, then reached in a drawer for a spoon. She peeled the lid off the yogurt cup and tossed it away, then licked the yogurt off her finger.

"With lasagna? Are you really that easy?"

He watched her take the yogurt to Tony, then as she came back, he took a seat at the table and waited for his meal to be put on a plate and placed in front of him. She put a small bowl of side salad next to his plate and got two glasses. When she got the milk out of the refrigerator, he squirmed in his chair.

"You're not going to make me drink that, are you?" He asked.

"I'm not going to make you do anything. What would you like to drink?" She brought her glass of milk to the table, taking a sip of it, then running her tongue over her top lip to wipe off the small milk mustache that was left behind.

"Anything," he said simply.

"Wine, soda or water?"

"Wine."

Cameron was satisfied with his answer. She would have actually joined him with the wine, but she felt she didn't need anything to stimulate her needs at the moment. She felt she would go insane if she couldn't have him tonight, so, she felt the milk might help to soothe her raging hormones. It didn't work!

Their meal started like any meal, each concerned with their own plate, but once Cameron started taking longer and longer intervals between bites, licking her fork to remove the thick cheese and sauce, House's bites of lasagna became fewer and farther in between. Their eyes met frequently, locking, as their needs for one another were becoming more and more obvious. Finally, House pushed his plate back and reached for his napkin.

"I've had enough," he told her in a low voice.

"Me too."

Cameron jumped up from her seat and grabbed both partially eaten plates of lasagna and took them to the counter. By the time she turned around to go back for the other dishes, House was coming toward her and pressed her back against the sink. His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that was filled with a hunger that had nothing to do with their dinner. Cameron was so unprepared for this gesture, and at the same time, filled with such need, that her response escaped her before she realized it. She squealed, and the sound brought a smile to House. She jumped up against him and wrapped her arms and legs around him. Their passions consumed them, burning them with needs that had been plaguing them for a month.

That is until Cameron felt the first wave of nausea hit her. It was strong, and it was forceful. Her legs dropped from around him and she pulled back from his embrace. House looked at her strangely, seeing something in her expression that had changed. But she wanted this so bad, she wasn't willing to give up so easily. She took a deep gulp of air and smiled at him, putting her hands on his face as she pulled him down for another kiss. A second wave of the horrible illness came over her and she pulled back again, this time leaning her forehead against his.

"Cameron, are you alright?" House asked as he pulled back and looked at her, seeing something strange in her expression.

She took another deep gulp of air. God, she wanted to be with him so much! "Yes. Yes. I'm fine."

She reached up and kissed him again, but the moment his tongue touched her lips, she yanked away and turned to heave her dinner into her garbage disposal.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

House rolled his eyes as he looked at her heaving into the sink. He reached down and pulled her hair back, holding it out of her way, then began gently stroking her back as she continued to vomit until there was nothing left to throw up. Finally, she reached to turn on the water and wash her regurgitated dinner down the drain. After a moment she tried to turn around to look at him, tears filling her eyes as she did so.

"Oh, House, I am so sorry!" She tried to stand erect but her knees started to buckle. "I just feel so. . ."

"O-kay, down ya go." House helped ease her down until she was sitting on the floor leaning against the sink. Once he saw she was stable enough, he finished cleaning the sink, then bent over to look at her as she sat with her head in her hands. "Do you think you can make it in to your bed?"

She nodded her head and took his hand as he pulled her up, but her unstable gait prompted her to put her arm around his waist and lean her head against him. As they made their way through the living room, Tony's gaze went immediately to them.

"She's sick,' House said as they continued to her bedroom. "Just a stomach virus."

Once inside her room, House pulled the sheet back on the bed and sat her on its edge. He looked around the room and went to the dresser, opening drawers until he found a nightshirt and brought it back to her. He lifted her tank top over her head and pulled her to her feet, then took her bra off of her with a negative shake of his head. What a waste, he thought as he unfastened her denim cut-offs and pushed them down over her hips. Damn waste. He lifted the nightshirt over her head and onto her arms and was about to let it drop down over her body, but stopped as he gazed down at her. With a quick drop of his head, he kissed her right breast quickly, then let the covering drop over her.

"Sorry," he said to her still teary eyes. "I couldn't resist it."

"I wanted to–so much. . . ," she started, but breathed in another gulp of air. "I'm so sorry."

"Here, lay down. I'll get something for you to throw up in. Where should I look? Bathroom or kitchen?"

"Bathroom closet." She lay on the bed and he pulled the sheet over her.

He was in and out of the bathroom in a matter of seconds, putting the basin on the floor near where her head lay on the pillow.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sick," she moaned as she turned onto her side and pressed her face against her pillow.

"Do you think you'll be okay for about half an hour?"

She simply nodded her head once, then closed her eyes and listened as he walked through her apartment and out the door. She then promptly fell asleep.

House entered Cameron's apartment some twenty-five minutes later, carrying a small bag from the local pharmacy. He locked the door behind himself, then stopped when he noticed Tony watching him.

"Your mom's sick. I'm spending the night with her. Do you have a problem with that?"

Tony looked at him a moment then snorted his indifference before looking back to the television screen, indicating he thought the question was rather ridiculous.

House moved into Cameron's bedroom and found her asleep. He put the bag on top of the dresser. Next, he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of her rocking chair she had in the corner, slid off his Nikes, then took off his button-down shirt, leaving the t-shirt beneath. He moved back to the bag and took the small box from inside of it, then sat next to Cameron, on the edge of her bed. His hand moved to her face, pulling the hair back so he could see her.

"Allison. Allison, wake up," he said gently so he wouldn't startle her. He watched as she pressed her face into her pillow again as she groaned with nausea. "Will you wake up for me?"

Slowly she turned her face to look at him, tears brimming her eyes as she reached her hand out to his thigh. "Oh, House," she cried, "I'm so sorry."

He nodded his head to acknowledge her repeated statement, then handed a tissue to her so she could wipe her eyes. "Do you feel like you're going to throw up again?"

"I don't think so, I'm terribly nauseated though." She attempted to sit upright and he pushed the pillows against the headboard so she could lean on them as she sobbed again. "I feel terrible for doing that to you."

"Why? You can't help it if you got sick."

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been so moody lately, and today I was so–so–I wanted you so badly I thought I was going crazy with it," she said as she teared up again.

He smiled gently at her. "I noticed that. That's why I want you to try to get up for a few minutes. Do you think you can go to the bathroom?"

She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion, then looked at the box he showed her. Her eyes widened as she read the label of the home pregnancy test, then she burst into tears again, and covered her face with her hands. "Oh no! I can't be. I mean–I mean–I can be, I guess. I've just been so busy with Tony that I haven't taken the time to realize I haven't even gotten my period this month."

"Well, you can sit there and cry about it–or go see if this is really a pregnancy–or if stress is causing all of this." He pulled her hands away from her face and stood up, gently pulling her until she was on unsteady feet.

"But couldn't this just be a flu?" She asked as she went into the bathroom with him.

"Could be. But a flu wouldn't make you practically attack a man you haven't spoken civilly to in over a month." He opened the box and handed her the pieces she needed. "A flu doesn't explain why you're bursting into tears at the snap of the fingers lately. Or why your breasts looked delightfully larger tonight than they have the past three years."

"I'm not doing this in front of you." She stood next to the toilet and stared at him. "You need to leave."

"Alright, but I'm only stepping outside."

Within two minutes House heard Cameron washing her hands and he entered the bathroom with her again. He got a washcloth and wet it with cool water, then came back to her and picked up the test. They moved back to her bedroom and let her lay down as he wiped her face with the cool cloth. He then got up and moved to the other side of the bed as Cameron watched him.

"May I?" he asked as he put his hand on the button of his jeans.

"But. . . I. . ." She was pleasantly surprised by his intention to get in bed with her, she thought after nearly vomiting on him, he would be keeping a safe distance from her. "Yes--yes."

She watched as he took of his jeans and socks, then got into bed next to her. After another minute or so, he reached over and looked at the test result. He looked at Cameron a second, then back at the test, then handed it to her. The positive result brought more tears to her as she chewed her lower lip and looked back at House then put the test on her night stand.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"I know." He studied her for a moment. "You know I've got to ask you."

She nodded her head. She didn't like that he had to ask. She would have rather had his complete trust in her, but considering the fact that she had been with Chase a few months before, she would allow him his doubts–for now.

"It has to be yours," she told him. "I was on the pill when I was with Chase, and I had normal periods between my time with him and my time with you. When I broke it off with Chase I stopped using the pill, they made me nauseous anyway, and I figured I wouldn't have any need for them–but then we. . ."

"Okay. That answers the first question. Now, are you sure you want to keep it?"

Cameron closed her eyes and nodded her head yes. "I can understand if you don't want me to, but, I'm keeping it."

"It doesn't matter what I want?"

"Yes." She looked at him as she reached over and stroked his cheek. "It matters. But I can't force you to feel something you don't feel. And you can't force me to do something I don't feel is right. This is as much a part of us as Tony and it deserves the same opportunities."

He nodded his head once, then pulled her over until she was lying with her head on his shoulder. "So does this mean no sex until you're through with the morning sickness?"

"Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"I guess so. I'm not running out the front door, am I?" He rolled until he was on his side facing her. "You know this is going to be one hell of a rocky road."

"It's been a rocky road for fifteen years, why should it stop now?"

"I just want you to be prepared. I can't say I'm sorry for not being there for those fifteen years--that decision wasn't left up to me." This comment opened Cameron's mouth to speak, but House continued. "But--I also know that I wouldn't have been there for you and Tony anyway. And you knew that--otherwise you would have tracked me down and informed me of his existence. But you didn't, and now that I know how I treated you, I can understand why. What I'll never understand is why you have faith in me now, after all I've done to you. But, I will try to be what you and Tony need, and I'll try to be what this one needs. I just can't promise you it will work. I've been like this for too long. I don't know if it's possible for me to change anymore."

"What makes you think I want you to change? Open up--enough to let us in with you, yes, but not enough to over-power you or change you. Can you imagine? I wouldn't want you to change, and I don't think Tony would have half as much fun teasing you if you were to change into something different."

"So, you'll be okay with the cranky, gimpy, sarcastic, antique that I am?"

"You're not an antique yet--but you forgot to add terribly sexy--and I wouldn't have you any other way."

"So, what "is" your answer about the sex?"

"You're a doctor, make me better," she told him, suddenly not feeling quite as nauseous as she had earlier.

"Whatever you say, green eyes."


	34. Chapter 34

Epilogue

June 2027

Dr. Gregory House walked down the Ocean City boardwalk dressed for the occasion. His short-sleeved tropical shirt and denim shorts with deck shoes screamed tourist, but he never cared much about his wardrobe before, he wasn't going to start at sixty-eight years of age. His dark hair had long turned white and he had a bald spot spreading across the back of his head, but he could still turn some ladies heads.

At the moment it was a young thing coming up from the beach that he was most interested in. A tall girl, nearly six feet in height, wearing a scant two-piece swimsuit, sandals and stylish sunglasses. She looked up and down the boardwalk until her brilliant blue eyes caught the way he was watching her. She flashed him a blinding smile, turned and waved at someone on the beach, then turned back to House. With her long chocolate brown hair flowing back over her shoulders, she gracefully made her way toward his inviting expression. She was almost regal in her mannerisms as she approached him and he smiled his greeting. Oh, she was a beauty alright, her refined air adding to her persona. As she flashed that smile at him again, his first thought was "this is gonna cost me."

"Hey gorgeous," he said as she stopped next to him, her fingers tracing over the hand he was holding his cane in. "How much?"

"Two hundred dollars?" She asked hopefully.

"That's a bit much for such an old man, don't ya think?" He remarked as he eyed her.

It was at that moment that House saw the first water balloon heading in the tall beauty's direction. He raised his cane immediately but it broke on contact and drenched the young lady. The second balloon came before he even saw it and hit her directly in the head. House had to try to hide his smile as all the haughtiness she had possessed turned to that of complete temper as she curled her fists and stomped her feet.

"DAD! If you don't beat them–I will! They've been acting like animals all morning! Any time I saw someone I wanted to talk to. . ."

"I take it that "someone" was a boy." House couldn't help smiling at his daughter's rants.

"Whatever! They're curses–both of them!"

"Dee, they're your brothers, not curses." He glanced down in the direction that the balloons came from, seeing that the pranksters were now in the possession of the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen in his life.

"And, Dad, I wish you wouldn't call me that. My name is Sandra. I don't think it's funny to be reminded that I was named after the person on Tony's paternity test. I wish Uncle James had come up with something more elegant than Sandra–he could have used the name Natasha or Felicia. . .but I'm stuck with everyone calling me "Sandy" or "Dee." You didn't name the boys after those Darin (Darren) guys!"

House listened to his daughter's chatter, amazed how, when she opened her mouth, the sophisticated airs would vanish and his "real" daughter would appear. "Would you like to tell me what you need two hundred dollars for, before your mother finds out and puts a quick stop to it?"

This brightened her expression as she looked at her father. "I saw the cutest bathing suit in a store back there–and there were these sunglasses and sandals that would go perfectly with it. And then I thought Jessica and I could get dinner."

House reached in his wallet and pulled out the bills requested and handed them to her. "Where is your friend, anyway?"

"In the bathroom, trying to dry her hair. The boys already hit her with those stupid balloons. She was completely soaked."

"Isn't that the idea behind coming to the beach?" He asked as he spotted the young lady in question approaching. "To get wet?"

"Oh, Dad," Dee giggled. "You're funny. Actually, she came because she wanted to meet Tony tonight when he gets here. God only knows why, she met him when she was a kid, once would be enough for me."

"Hello, Dr. House," Jessica smiled shyly at him as she stood next to Dee, who was towering over her. Jessica was a petite five-and-a-half-foot girl with auburn hair that traveled down past her shoulders, framing a face that almost seemed angelic, and an astonishing set of big brown eyes. She had grown up a few houses down from him and his tribe of children. She was the same age as Dee and four years older than his second son, Jackson. He had watched their friendship develop from the time he sent his oldest son off to college and his daughter to daycare. It seemed that if Dee wasn't at Jessica's house, then Jess was at their house, but for some reason, every time Tony had come home these past seven or eight years, Jess and her parents were out of town.

"Hi Jess," House returned, but his attention was already caught up in the green eyes he had seen earlier.

The green-eyed beauty wore a tiger-striped one-piece swimsuit especially for this trip. Her brown hair traveled down past her shoulders, probably holding a bit more gray in it these days than she chose to allow show, preferring Loreal to the natural gray. She had her right arm around the waist of a dark-haired youth with eyes the color of sapphires. At fifteen, Jackson House was the same height as his father, and although there was a resemblance and you could clearly see that he was one of those "House" kids, he also held a bit of his mother in his face.

With her arm around the shoulder of twelve-year-old James House, she smiled her special smile at her husband, volumes spoken between those green eyes and his blue ones. At fifty-three she was everything he wanted in a woman. Their years together providing them with a closeness that was almost telepathic.

"James, do you have anything to say to Jessica?" Allison Cameron-House asked her youngest son.

"I'm sorry Jess." The youngster was a masculine version of his mother with the main differences being the darker shade of his hair and his eyes that, like all his siblings, were his father's. "I shouldn't have thrown that water balloon on you. But Jackson said you were the hottest thing he seen all day–so I thought I'd cool you off!"

"Shut up!" Jackson's attempt to reach around his mother and slap the younger boy in the back of the head was stopped with quick efficiency by his father's cane. A trick he picked up as the number of his children began to grow.

"Dad! He's such a pain in the ass!"

"God, what a pig!" Dee snarled at her brother with disgust. "You're nothing but a horny little toad!"

"He's lying! I didn't say that!" Jackson defended himself.

"Did so! You said she was so hot. . ."

"ENOUGH!" House stopped the chaos with one word in a tone that held no room for argument. "Jack–Jimmy–up to our suite. Dee–Jess, home by eleven."

Cameron released her hold on her sons and moved to her husband's arm that was waiting for her, her favorite place in the world. Together, they started up the boardwalk, following the two boys who alternately shoved at each other and then would race ahead until they were entering the hotel they were staying at.

"Would you like to tell me why you gave Sandy two hundred dollars?" Cameron asked House.

"Now, how did you manage to see that? I thought we had that all taken care of while you were still coming up the boardwalk," he chuckled.

"I was with her when she saw the swimsuit, sandals and sunglasses. I just rounded up on the total."

"Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are in this sunlight?" His arm pulled her tighter against him as they followed their boys, then went inside and rode up the elevator their sons had rode up in a few minutes prior to them.

"Keep flattering me, you know it'll get you what you want," she laughed as they stepped through the elevator doors and started down the hall to their rooms.

"You promise?"

"Always."

As the entered their rooms they saw that their boys were already in front of the video screen, deeply involved in a baseball game between the Phillies and the Mets.

"We're going in for a nap awhile, guys."

"Yeah–whatever," Jackson answered as he kept his eyes pointed toward the game, then went on to his brother after the bedroom door closed. "I just hope I get that many "naps"when I'm his age!"

"What are you talking about?" Asked James.

"Never mind, stupid." Jackson threw a pillow and hit James in the head, then they both went back to watching the Phillies hit a double.

House heard the conversation as he was pulling his wife into his arms, his hands going over the curves he loved so much. She, in turn, started unbuttoning his shirt, and drawing it over his shoulders. House moved with her until they were lying across the bed, his need of her as potent as it had been thirty-five years earlier, maybe different with age, but definitely as potent. She was his drug of choice, and he was hers.

House and Cameron dressed semi-formally as they walked to the restaurant where they were to meet with their oldest son for dinner and drinks. It had been nearly a year since he came home from his fellowship at a hospital in Virginia. Before that it had been two years. His schedule had been so busy that he barely had days off from work as an Emergency Medicine physician, so the several hour trip just wasn't feasible. He did, though, make a point of calling home at least once a week, and emailing more frequently. Dr. Anthony House was a replica of his father in his younger days. At thirty-four he stood exactly one inch taller than his dad, and perhaps a few added inches of muscle, but other than that, he still held all the similarities that alerted his Uncle James and Aunt Lisa all those years ago.

As House entered the restaurant and was seated, he glanced around the dimly lit room and noticed that his daughter and her friend were seated at the other end, each attired in short dresses that hugged their curves. He'd have to talk to her about that, he thought as he nodded his greeting to them, then sat down with his wife. After another fifteen minutes of waiting for Tony, House excused himself and headed to the foyer. He checked his watch again, then glanced at the bar next door.

There he was, white shirt opened to his mid-chest with his tie hanging out of his jacket pocket. He was dropping a shot of whiskey into a mug of beer, then downing its contents in a race with some who stood around the bar. By the looks of his eyes, this was not his first drink of the night.

"Hey! Dad! I didn't see you there!" Tony glanced up and smiled widely as House approached him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Celebrating a little early, don't you think?" House asked as he put his hand over the top of his son's mug, indicating that he didn't want another drink brought to him. The bartender looked at Tony for confirmation then walked away as the younger man chuckled and shrugged his shoulders.

"But, Dad, I never drink!" He put his arm around his dad's shoulders as they started out of the bar. "I never have time. But, I thought, why not tonight? In celebration with my conception thirty-five years ago! Congratulations Dad, you made yourself a fine son," he said with a hiccough.

"Yesss, I see that." House moved with Tony until he had him leaning against the outside wall of the restaurant they were to be eating in. "Tony, I don't think you're in any shape to go in and eat dinner with your mother."

"Why not?" He looked at him, completely puzzled at the thought. "Dad, I don''t feel too good. I don't think this drinking stuff is so fun anymore."

House watched as his son ran to the edge of the boardwalk and spewed into the large barrel trash can.

"O-kay. How about if you just sit here on this bench while I go get your mother and we'll just forget about dinner. We'll go back to our suite and you can bunk with Jack for the night."

"Um–yeah, sure."

House returned to the restaurant in search of his wife.

Tony House sat on the bench outside the restaurant and watched his father go inside. He didn't feel real well. He wasn't used to drinking; he was always too busy to go out and rarely saw the benefit of drinking alone in his apartment in Virginia. He was pushing it if he drank four times a year–and really pushing it if he ever got drunk during those excursions. Tonight though, he was on his way to meet with his parents when he caught sight of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She had the most amazing brown eyes, like huge brown pansies. Her hair was a glorious auburn that framed a face that belonged to an angel. She was a diminutive creature, maybe an inch or so taller than his mom, but God, she was gorgeous. When he saw her, she looked back at him and smiled immediately, invitation written clearly across her face and he was eager to take her up on that proposal. But as he tried to make his way through the crowd to get to her, she had vanished into one of the area businesses.

It was one of the first times in his life that he actually felt the "need" for a drink. But then as he conversed with the men in the bar, one drink lead to another, and before he knew it, his father was standing in front of him and his head was spinning. Then he no sooner left the bar and he lost his stomach. He quickly decided that this "drinking thing" wasn't so much to his liking.

"Hi," the girl said as she moved to stand in front of him.

Tony rubbed his hand over his face to try to clear his head, then he looked up into the face of an angel.

"Hi yourself." He smiled at her and attempted to stand.

She immediately went to his aid and helped him back into his seat then sat next to him. He leaned back and looked at those brown eyes. Jeez, but she was getting him aroused, and it was only from looking at her!

"I saw you earlier," she told him.

"I saw you too, but you disappeared. Where'd you go?"

"Got side-tracked into one of the restaurants."

"That's too bad, I would've bought you dinner."

"I'll take you up on that."

"You're not doing anything right now." He tried to stand again and she jumped to assist him, putting one of his arms around her shoulders as she helped him walk across the boardwalk, but they only made it as far as the front of the restaurant, leaning up against the brick siding.

"But I've already eaten tonight."

"I could think of other things to do," he said smoothly as his arms went around her waist and pulled her over until she stood directly in front of him. He smiled at her as she swallowed hard and gazed up at him. Her tongue flicked across her lips to moisten them and that was all the invitation he needed. When his mouth found hers, it was if sparks shot through both of them.

"Tony!" Cameron's reprimand didn't sink into Tony's ears immediately, and Jessica, who was melting in his arms, was slow to respond as well. "Tony! Stop that!"

"Ah, Jeez!" House moaned as he came out of the restaurant behind his wife. "I thought it would be safe to leave him alone for a minute."

House went to the young girl and his son, grasping his son's upper arm as he pulled him away from Jessica.

"Ah, come on Dad! She'd be worth every penny!"

"Oh no! We're not going through this again! You're going back to our hotel. Dee, see that they don't cross paths again until we all leave tomorrow."

Tony finally noticed his sister standing with his little beauty, then flashed her a huge smile. "Hey Dee. Nice to see ya, kiddo!"

Dee stood by Jessica's side as House and Cameron each took Tony by the arm and headed back to their hotel, both noticing the way he kept turning his head to look at "the angel with brown eyes" and smiled broadly at her. Jessica, in turn, gave him a little wave and a big sigh.

"Those brown eyes," Tony sighed as he looked back at his dad.

"Yeah, they'll get ya every time." House glanced at his wife and smiled, then back to his son. "You can just wait on those brown eyes for a few years, buddy. Come back in five or so years and see if those eyes are still quite so attractive."

Dee stood next to Jessica, watching her brother and parents heading back up the boardwalk.

"Jeez, he acts like he never seen you around our house before," Dee remarked with disapproval, not understanding what her friend found so appealing about her brother.

"He hasn't seen me–not since I was about twelve. I've been away every time he's come home since then. But I think I'm going to be home a lot more from now on–or maybe traveling to Virginia Beach for some vacationing." Jessica never took her eyes off of the three people that stopped to talk to another couple in the hotel's doorway. They were both in their late-fifties; the man with his head full of gray hair and the woman's hair still a beautiful head of blackness.

"I don't think Uncle James and Aunt Lisa are going to like that," Dee sang teasingly.

"What Mom and Dad don't know, won't hurt them–for now."

Tony glanced back at the girl that still stood outside the restaurant, smiling shyly at him, and doubted very much that he could ever forget those eyes.

THE END


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